


Startup Love

by Avogara



Series: Domestic Cats [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Banter, Cat Daddies, Conflict Resolution, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Forensic Scientist Kuroo, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Pro Gamer Kenma, Recovering Workaholic, Sickfic, Suggestive Themes, Timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23838742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avogara/pseuds/Avogara
Summary: "Let me rephrase that. Do you need any non-work related things?" Kuroo tried to keep to the irritation and combativeness out of his voice, but it was hard. How thefuckdid Kenma intend to work like this?"You know I can still do email and things on my phone…" Came a defiant sniffed reply from the blanket pile who had now rolled over."I do know that. And you know I'll hide your phone from you until you get better if you do, so I wouldn't risk it if I were you. Anything else?"The lump said nothing, probably because he was scowling and cursing his boyfriend for being such an overprotective dick right now.—Kuroo is a jerk. He knows this because he’s the butthead who got Kenma sick in the first place.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Domestic Cats [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717717
Comments: 65
Kudos: 436
Collections: Recommended KuroKen Fics





	1. Failure to Launch

"Kenma! Tadaima! I'm home!" Kuroo's deep voice called boomingly through the house as he unceremoniously dropped his lab bag beside his gym duffel while trying to get his work shoes off at the genkan. 

A steady autumn rain had started to fall outside just as he was walking back from the train station closest to their neighborhood, and having no foresight whatsoever he hadn't brought an umbrella that day. So Kuroo did what he always did when he came home too wet, too dirty, or too disgusting from being out in the real world.

He stripped. 

Right there in the entranceway of their cute little single-story rental home. Kuroo never had any shame about this strange habit from childhood.

Holding his dark rimmed glasses in place as best he could the lanky blocker peeled out of his sweater, collared white dress shirt, and ribbed tank underneath all in one go. It revealed the goosebumped skin and rolling chiseled lines of volley-cut muscle he'd maintained throughout college thanks to his university team and the local neighborhood gym team in more recent years.

He was chilled to the bone, mostly because he had refused to wear a jacket that morning and therefore had gotten soaked. Kuroo was always stubborn about not having extra layers on that he didn't strictly _need_. Plus, he liked to pretend it was nice out for as long as humanly possible. And even though their birthdays were both in the fall and he loved some of the cooler temperatures, the warmth of longer and lighter days had his heart because you could lose yourself in volleyball and yakiniku BBQs with friends all afternoon and well into the night.

Which is how he'd gotten so much summer-tanned skin in the first place. 

The sun-kissed color spread evenly from the base of his fluffy black bedhead down his broad shoulders and spine, back across his collarbone and chest, over the sharp angles of his abs and hip bones, and all the way past his long-faded thin white appendectomy scar to the soft patch of black fuzz just above his belt. This accessory came next in an unbuckled hurry as he hiked down the damp dress pants and tried to kick off his goofy molecule socks at the same time. His dry, clingy short-short red briefs underneath snuggly hugged his hips and butt revealing the multiple awkward leftover tan lines on his thick thighs that never quite evened out last season.

Now in his mostly properly naked state, Kuroo briskly slinked down the hallway clutching his arms around his chilly, perky man tits that didn't much care for the drafty nature of houses. Apartments were far easier to heat, but the freedoms of a single family home in the more spread out western Tokyo suburbs were undeniable and exhaustive by comparison. He thudded quickly down the hallway and took a hard left into Kenma's gaming office.

"Kenma! Tadaima!" The tall cat chirped again into the dark space which glowed with the lights and screens from three large monitors, a laptop on the side, a custom gaming PC tower with a rainbow-colored water cooling system, and a large projection screen mostly for video production previews and console gaming on the wall beyond the desk area. It was so much warmer in here than in the other rooms thanks to all of the electronics—just how Kenma liked it.

However, the gamer wasn't here. 

No matter though. Kuroo slammed the door shut and continued his slinking further down the corridor.

"Tadaima Kenmmmaaa!" The bed-headed fool sang as he burst through the bathroom door.

Their silky black cat frantically sprang out between his hairy chilled legs having been apparently trapped in there for who knows how long. Sometimes they did that—got shut into rooms (completely on their own of course). Probably by accident with their tricksy tails. Silly kitties.

Kuroo huffed a short, disappointed sigh from his nose. 

If he wasn't working or pooping there were only so many other things he could be doing. The man didn't leave the house after all. His boyfriend had crafted a life for himself that made him able to work remote 100% of the time (or like, 95%, he still sometimes had to go to physical meetings, promotional events, or the occasional awards dinner).

The tall cat stalked past the hallway bathroom to their room.

"Kenma? Tadaima..." Kuroo called more softly with his deep voice into the bedroom as he poked his fluffy roosterhead around the door. If Kenma was in here it wouldn't be a good sign. Sometimes he got migraines from spending far too many hours staring at screens and would go lay down for a while in an attempt to will them away. 

But their bed was empty and the light from their ensuite bathroom wasn't on either.

"What the fuck…" Kuroo whispered curiously to himself. 

He snatched a zip up sweater from the pile of clean clothes in the laundry basket on the floor and yanked it on over his bare shoulders to stave off the chill. He almost resembled a swimmer with how little skin his red undies covered and how much smooth tawny chest could still be seen between the open zipper and hoodie pull strings. 

Starting to feel low-key concern creeping in, Kuroo turned back around and tramped to the kitchen and connected living room space. There was no Kenma getting a snack and no Kenma on the couch (another place where he sometimes napped if he wasn't feeling too hot).

"Kenma!" Kuroo's slightly confused voice reverberated through the rapidly darkening rooms. 

Frowning, he flipped on the kitchen spotlights and a lamp by the couch and coffee table feeling a strange uneasiness settle in his stomach. 

Kenma didn't go out. Ever. Especially not alone and especially not on nights like these when it was wet and cold and the sun had disappeared far too quickly for either of their liking. 

So where _was_ he?

Feeling the hinting traces of panic begin to flutter in his chest, Kuroo instinctively reached for his phone in his back pocket but realized he left it in his pants. He shuffled through his dirty clothes at the front door, found his device, and rapid-fired a text to his boyfriend.

_Kuroo《5:49》: Where you at little kitty?_

Quickly he checked the kotatsu in the formal dining room, out the adjacent sliding door to the garden, then out the actual backdoor to the rest of the yard, and on through a series of other closets and corners in the house for good measure. He found their patchy orange and white fluffball sleeping peacefully on another basket of clean clothes that Kenma must have pulled out so he could get a new load in the dryer. Kuroo stooped down and curled his calloused tan fingers around the cat's face to the tune of a marbly soft purr. Brushing the thick mane of fluff back out of his face he scratched behind his ears, then transitioned to rolling his knuckles down under his chin. Their cat purred thunderously with gratitude.

"Where's your daddy, pretty boy?" The half naked blocker softly crooned to his little friend. "Did you lose him? You know you and your brother are supposed to look after him while I'm at work. What do you think I'm paying you for?" 

Just then his hoodie pocket buzzed startling both Kuroo and the cat, who jumped up, glared at him, and promptly padded away from the laundry closet as if he had been royally offended.

Fumbling for his device, his heart leapt with relief when he saw Kenma's name on the lock screen.

_Kenma 《5:54》: Office_

"Tch," Kuroo scoffed, pivoting to feeling slightly peeved more than anything else now. He wasn't _stupid._ He checked the damn office, but Kenma's skinny ass wasn't in there.

_Kuroo《5:54》: Unless you've got an invisibility spell or some shit on, you weren't there..._

He could see Kenma typing something back to him.

_Kenma 《5:55》: Am too_

Exasperated the tall cat sprang up from the balls of his bare feet and prowled his lanky form back through the house, down the hallway, and into Kenma's gaming room again.

It looked the same. Exactly the same. Empty chair, running fans and systems, low light, and silence.

But then he heard a small cough from the corner. 

Over on the tatami floor by the wall and one of the book shelves filled with physical copies of games, movies, and other nerd paraphernalia was their guest futon with a lump of a someone in it who continued to cough low and harsh as he approached.

"Kenma…" The blocker said gently as the initial irritation melted away. He carefully lowered himself onto the floor beside him. 

"What're you doing?" Kuroo asked softly, puzzled by the weird futon situation but now firmly back in the worry camp.

Kenma's long, dark, and still partially blonde hair laid sprawled out and messy on the pillow around him. The sleep-deprived bags under his eyes seemed to be even more pronounced than usual. 

Golden glassy eyes slowly opened to peer up stoically at the looming, bare chested man in the red underwear above him. He stared at the crouching blocker for a lingering moment. Long enough for Kuroo to self-consciously question whether or not his boyfriend was judging his obvious flaccidity (not that he usually did that sort of thing, but he was staring unblinkingly _right_ at his junk so he didn't know how to take that).

"Why are you naked?" Kenma rasped neutrally before he tried to clear his throat.

Kuroo grinned a little bit as his insecurity vanished. Kenma wasn't judging, he was confused. The tall cat sunk a few nimble fingers into his boyfriend's silky hair to stroke it back behind his ear. His face was radiating heat. 

"It's raining. I got wet, so _yanno,"_ he explained vaguely with expressive eyebrows through his asymmetrical rooster bangs and thick black frames.

Kenma coughed again quietly and rolled his face back into the futon pillow.

"Hey! Don't ignore me, you little butt!" Kuroo half laughed, still feeling unclear as to why Kenma was in here on the floor instead of in their bed like he should be if he was trying to rest his eyes or brain.

He laid down beside the futon and weaseled an arm into the covers to wrap around the former setter's shoulders. It was strange because normally he wore his black BB Corp swag hoodie when he was working, but now it was just a sweaty gamer tank that Kuroo was pretty sure he went to sleep in the night before. 

Kenma also usually didn't take extended breaks like _this…_ and technically he still had at least a few more hours left in his work day. With the help of his life coach, he had crafted his schedule this way intentionally so that he could stay up late each night and wake up at an absurdly inappropriate hour every morning. Kozume's workaholic side had really shown its true colors when Kenma started college and began taking courses in things that actually interested him. Since then it had only gotten worse over the years with his startup business, YouTube channel, and now this pesky streaming habit which paid him to do _exactly_ what he'd be doing anyway.

Kenma was a goddamn powerhouse when it came to his work responsibilities and commitments, so it was all the more strange and mildly alarming to find him lying here in what was probably self-perceived, guilt-ridden unproductivity. His coach was supposed to be helping him with management techniques and self-care among other things, so maybe this was her suggestion? Oh, the woes of a semi-recovering workaholic...

"You not feelin' good?" Kuroo gently asked the lump of covers that concealed the small scrawny body of the person he loved more than anyone in this world. Underneath the layers of cotton his fingers kneaded the stiff muscles along the exposed curve of his neck and down his pale, thin back—both of which were too warm to the touch. 

"Mmmph," the small cat answered, muffled and noncommittally from the pillow.

"I got you sick, didn't I?" His dark gray eyes narrowed with guilt as he continued to press little circles into the muscles along his delicate, bony spine.

The answer was clear as Kenma let out a tiny, adorable sneeze beneath the covers.

Kuroo knew this would happen. 

This is why he never let Kenma take care of him before that nasty surprise fever he found himself with last week. Kenma's immune system just wasn't as built up as his own. Maybe Kuroo was just delaying the inevitable all the times he belligerently locked him out of his (and Daichi's) dorm room or when he quarantined himself at home in high school, but he never wanted to be the one who caused him pain or suffering. Maybe it was selfish not to ever let Kenma help, but look at where it had gotten him—he was a miserable pile of blankets all alone on the floor of his office without anyone here to comfort him for who knows how long. Kenma didn't deserve this or his germs...

"Babe, why don't we get you to bed, huh?" Kuroo suggested, lifting himself up onto his elbows and starting to peel the covers back. 

_"Noooo,"_ his boyfriend whined and coughed again, only managing to grab the sheet back from him which he clutched over his huffed and moody shoulder. 

Finicky little kitten.

"You clearly aren't feeling well Kenma," Kuroo stated matter-of-factly. "And you aren't working either. Were you seriously hiding from me?"

"Maybe," the smaller voice rasped out with another few muffled coughs.

"Whhhhhy would you do that?" Kuroo moaned letting his eyes grow wide in agitation and then normalize even though Kenma wasn't looking.

"Because I knew you'd barge in like you do every day," his boyfriend shot back scratchily followed by a congested sniff. He was deadpanning on the other side of that pillow, Kuroo just knew it.

"So?" The tall cat asked reproachfully.

"So I wanted to finish resting before I get back on."

Ah. There it was.

"I hate to break it to you little kitty, but you ain't gettin' back to work tonight," Kuroo stated with more affection than authority in his tone. His thumb had moved up to stroke the baby fine hairs along the back of his neck. They were so soft. Always so soft.

The tall cat sighed playing through the entire argument they were about to have in his mind. It was a classic for sure: an overworked Kenma, a nagging Kuroo, the same discussion reincarnated again and again about healthy business boundaries vs saying to hell with it and getting shit done even though the startup savant felt like crap. A real tale as old as time or whatever the hell the saying was...

Kenma rolled over just enough to shoot him a golden glare from the pillow. Even though his black and blonde bangs fanned haphazardly across his face, Kuroo could see the flush of light color in his cheeks.

"Why are you naked again?" Kenma deflected, eyeing him up and down quickly with unamused judgement for real this time.

"I _told_ you—it was raining, my clothes got wet, so I took them off. I wanted to tell you I was home before I hopped in the shower," Kuroo explained hastily. "And that's not going to work Kenma. You aren't getting back on and you damn well know it. So let me help you get to bed and then—"

As he made to touch the sheet, Kenma rolled over defiantly and tucked himself deeper into the futon.

"Kennnmmaa, _whhhyyy,"_ the blocker whined melodramatically, melting into his boyfriend's back through the covers as he pretended to bang his head on him in frustration. "Babe, you _can't_ be productive if you're _sick!_ That's just life. I'm sure Miho-san has told you the same thing and you always listen to her. You won't get anything worthwhile done if you're running at half power or less."

The lump said nothing.

"Are you hungry? I can make you something real quick and bring it to you in bed," he offered temptingly, nudging Kenma's shoulder with his long nose. 

Radio silence.

"Kenma. Please. You gotta work with me here."

"Mmh," his boyfriend grunted shortly.

"'Mmh' is not an acceptable form of communication. Try again."

"Go away."

_"Kenma."_

_"What?"_ The small cat asked legitimately irritated as he broke into a few more wheezy coughs that he tried to muffle into the bedding. 

This didn't hide the obvious fact that he too now shared in the glorious germs passed on from their friends thanks to one stupid drunken outing Kuroo had with Bokuto the other week. He felt like such a dickhead for bringing it home to his highly susceptible bubble boy...

"You're being unreasonable," Kuroo complained, leaning his much cooler forehead against the skin of the gamer's hot cold shoulder that he had managed to tug the sheet down from.

_"You're_ the unreasonable one," Kenma mumbled bitterly to the wall. 

His multi-color hair was messed up and tumbling freely around the pillow instead of being tied back in his normal signature sloppy bun. He must have pulled it out when he laid down because he knew he was taking more than just a typical insomniac cat nap.

"How am I unreasonable?" The bed-headed fool humored him taking the bait.

"I have a content schedule, Kuroo. I can't just not release videos each week or not show up to streams or calls or any of the other crap on my calendar..."

As if to prove his point, Kenma's phone buzzed somewhere in the layers of bedding between them and he sneezed again down into the sheets.

"Uh, yea, you can," the lanky blocker said with a ton of heaping skepticism. "The world won't stop spinning if the Mighty Kodzuken takes a break to _rest_ and _recover_ once in a while."

"It's not like that and you know it," the former setter snapped grumpily. He sounded like he was losing steam though. Like he had already spent enough of his reserve energy on this irritating conversation.

"They'll wait for you babe. They always do."

Kuroo pressed a reassuring kiss into his boyfriend's pale arm and waited for a snarky response, but none came. After another moment or two he got up on his elbows and peeked over to see that Kenma had already closed his long, pretty lashes and began to breathe deeper as he drifted back to sleep.

The tall cat really didn't want to leave him here on the floor in the futon, but he figured he may have less of a fight to deal with if he came back in a bit. After all, sleepy Kenmas were far easier to manage. Exhaling wearily, Kuroo leaned on his knee to get himself up and gently closed the office door before he walked all legs, ass, and hoodie down the darkening hall to their room. 

His shower was quick and joyless as he worried about how he should approach the next few days. 

If this was the same as what he himself had last week, which in all likelihood it was, then Kenma would be down for the count until at least Saturday or Sunday. And even then he usually caught things worse than Kuroo did. He seemed to always have a harder time being sick because he experienced more intense symptoms, ran higher fevers, and took longer to get over them. The last time Kenma was _really_ down and out he was totally fucking miserable for a week and a half straight then couldn't shake the thing completely until another two or three weeks later.

Kuroo did _not_ have that much PTO to cover staying home with him for an extended period of time, but he was determined to figure something out. The forensic lab where Kuroo worked had missed him last week when he was out so he was short by those days too, but there had to be _something_ he could finagle with his schedule. Kenma needed him, that was all he knew and all he needed to know.

After toweling off his big, leggy blocker's body, Kuroo rummaged through the same clean, yet unfolded clothes in the laundry basket near the door. He yanked on a comfy gray tank top, another pair of skimpy underwear, and some airy loose navy gym shorts before making his way to the kitchen. The counters, small island, and fridge were illuminated by the spotlights in the ceiling and under cabinet lighting, but had darkened significantly from the dreary autumn nightfall and steady pattering rain. 

Honestly, weather like this always made him tired too, but he put on his metaphorical big boy pants and got to work making something for them to eat. 

It wasn't long before he had a few steaming bowls of miso soup along with a side of rice, some pan-grilled slices of cod, and little bowls of edamame that he went ahead and pre-peeled so that Kenma wouldn't have to fuss with the bean pods. He opened a bottom kitchen cabinet door with his foot alone (Kenma often made fun of his freaky, dexterous monkey toes) and found their larger serving tray that they normally used when they had friends over. 

After arranging it all carefully atop the tray, Kuroo stopped at the fridge to fill up a gigantic plastic MSBY Black Jackals sports momento cup with ice, water, and a bright yellow reusable silicone bendy straw. Bokuto had given them a bunch of free swag a few years back and this cup was one of the more useful items they dug out of the menagerie of promotional crap he had in boxes over at their apartment. Akaashi just wanted as much of it gone as possible before he resorted to donating in order to reclaim their limited closet space. Bo had squawked and nearly cried at the mere suggestion of that. Hence, a butt ton of free jackals loot.

The bed-headed fool then made his way back to their bedroom where he set the tray and water cup down on the floor, which Kenma would objectively hate if he saw it but the plan was to _avoid_ that. A moment later he crept silently into Kenma's gaming office and threaded a few fingers underneath his boyfriend causing him to make a rather pathetic whiny sound in protest. 

"Shhhh," Kuroo tried to hush him before he got too awake and agitated, but a golden resentful eye pried open sleepily to glare at him. 

"Kuro, no... _Stop…_ " Kenma mumbled, his voice still groggy with tired insistence and cough-induced scratchiness. 

The simple, ridiculous adolescent nickname rang in Kuroo's ears. He rarely called him that anymore, probably because he had discovered that it made Kuroo _super_ soft and uwu for him so he wanted to save it for occasions such as these when he could better wield it to get what he wanted. Boy, he was pulling out all of his defensive claws tonight...

"I have dinner waiting for you babe," Kuroo explained as he struggled to try to get an unhelpful, dead-weighted boyfriend into his arms. 

"M' not hungry…"

"Well, you need to try," the blocker said evenly as he finally got Kenma up out of the warm futon nest and into a solid carrying position against his chest. He was still breathing in slow, shallow puffs of air and his head immediately curled into the crook of Kuroo's well-muscled tan arm. The tall cat wanted to wipe his sweaty, clinging bangs off his face, but focused on stiffly getting up and walking his feverish companion slowly through the narrow doorways to their bedroom.

Kenma hadn’t been sick, _real_ sick, since before his startup and business ventures took off a few years ago. Since then, the boundaries between work and home life had become blurred even when they tried to be intentional about separating it all. Did Kenma even understand that he _couldn’t_ work like this? He was super smart, he knew that… right? 

Kuroo had the feeling that this was going to be interesting to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was intended to be a cute little Kuroken oneshot sequel to Forensic Love turned into... a lot. So much so that I thought it'd just be easier to break it down into a few chapters. This is what happens when you try to solve your insomnia with writing guys...
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Drop a kudos or a comment if you liked! 😉


	2. Define Your Mission

"I can't…"

"I believe in you."

"I just can't…"

"Kenma. Please. Can you _at least_ drink the soup?"

"I don't _know…"_

"Did you have anything for lunch?"

"..."

 _"Auuughhh_ , Kennnmmmaaa…"

Kuroo stared exasperated at his already too skinny boyfriend who he had badgered into changing from his sweaty comfy clothes into _clean_ comfy clothes. Again, the blocker pulled from the unfolded laundry basket because eventually they wouldn't have to fold anything if they used it all. Take that boring unnecessary house chores!

"Babe, you have to eat _something_ today or you're just going to feel worse," Kuroo sighed again. Normally Kenma was the sigher in the relationship, not him. 

Kenma looked incredibly conflicted as he half glared at the tray of food Kuroo placed on the bed and half looked like he wanted to cry. Which he seldomly ever did, meaning he probably felt even worse than he was letting on. Or maybe he was really that exhausted? It was as if Kuroo had asked him to do twenty more laps around the gym after they'd just sweated, bled, and gotten their asses kicked in a fifth set. 

Yea. That was the look.

The blocker held up the massive MSBY water cup, tipping the bendy straw towards the distressed little cat who reluctantly accepted the drink as it was nudged into his fingers.

Kuroo said nothing because occasionally he did that. While Kenma frequently made jibes at him for having a big mouth, sometimes he knew when to pull back. It's not like Kenma could verbally spar with him much tonight anyway. It didn't exactly seem fair to full on bicker or cat fight when his partner was A) probably starting to lose his voice, B) had zero energy from not eating, and C) didn't even make a dick joke earlier when he had the perfect opportunity to roast the scantily-clad roosterhead.

When the semi blonde was done drinking he just held the huge cup in his lap beneath his hunched, blanketed form and stared pathetically down at the untouched food. Kenma had the appetite of a bird (but not of the owl or crow variety) even on an average day, so it just made things that much harder when he was sick. 

"What if we…" Kuroo raised an eyebrow as he plucked the bendy straw from the cup and plopped it in the bowl of miso soup. It was leaning awkwardly more than halfway out, but it could work.

Kenma blinked and squinted his cheek on one side like he was skeptical, but considering it. He looked completely exhausted despite having probably slept the majority of the day already.

"It's still too hot," the former setter croaked trying to clear his throat. Even though he'd just drank at least a third of the ice water from the jackal's chalice his voice was still froggy. What a difference one damn day made. Just the night before Kenma seemed tired, but okay overall...

Kuroo bit the inside of his cheek in problem-solving mode. Then, without warning, he shoved his hand right down into Kenma's water cup.

"What're you—" Kenma strained to berate him, but interrupted himself with a harsh stream of sneezes that he directed away from his boyfriend and into the lightweight throw blanket Kuroo had wrapped him up in.

When he was done he sniffed miserably and turned back to Kuroo and the impossible dinner to see a few ice cubes rapidly melting and floating alongside the thinly sliced mushrooms and onions of the soup. 

The small cat was still hazed-looking and frowning when his companion traded him the iced miso bowl and precarious straw situation for the MSBY cup. 

"Do what you can, okay?" Kuroo conceded as he separated the just plain hopeful dishes from the probable ones on the tray. He scooted the freshly peeled edamame bowl closer to the finicky eater. 

With that, the tall cat tucked into his own food and let them eat and slurp their dinner in the comfortable silence they had grown accustomed to over the years. Not that their dinners were normally silent because they certainly _weren't_ , but sometimes they both just enjoyed each other's presence without feeling the need to talk. This happened mostly on select nights when Kenma wasn't live streaming or working hella late and he joined Kuroo on the couch for the evening. 

The blocker usually watched YouTube videos or streaming shows (everything from documentaries and international volleyball matches to trash TV and shitty sitcoms), read books (shocker, he was still a big sci-fi nerd—no wonder he got along so well with Oikawa when they played at uni together), or scrolled through his newsfeeds on his phone.

Meanwhile, Kenma always had his Switch or some other random vintage handheld device from his extensive library to focus on. He'd then curl up all warm and snuggly and content beside Kuroo who didn't mind one bit. It was beyond comforting to just be so close to him at the end of the day. Kenma would play his games in a variety of odd positions, including but not limited to: slouching shoulder to shoulder beside him, laying his silky head in Kuroo's lap for hair noodling and scalp massages, or just stretching out his stripy socked feet across those big captain's thighs so that Kuroo could mindlessly rub them until Kenma got overstimulated and fidgeted his toes away into the warm spot between the tall cat's back and the sofa cushion. 

They spent a good deal of time like this. Inhabiting the same cozy physical space, but largely lost in their own worlds. Always touching in some way, usually joined by a blanket or two, or a fan in the summertime when it was too hot for that. Usually the silence would break at least a few times because Kuroo wanted to share a stupid cute cat photo, some messed up funny meme, or bits of controversial news to get Kenma's thoughts on, but talking in general wasn't forced or even really necessary for them both to enjoy this time together as a couple. 

What made things even more interesting was that they were frequently joined by one or both of their cats who enjoyed licking Kuroo's hopeless bedhead from the back of the couch, curling up beside Kenma's warm stomach if he was laying down, or squirreling their way onto Kuroo's lap to compete for attention and head scratches. Although no one else ever saw it, it wasn't uncommon for Kuroo to be buried under this pile of needy kitties—the fluffy calico at his shoulders, some part of Kenma laying across him, and the rumbling purr of their little jet black panther baby curled up on the side opposite his boyfriend. He loved his center position in the complicated tangle of limbs and feets and furr, unless of course he had to pee. Then he was just fucked because none of them would let him get up without glaring like he'd mortally offended them.

The funny part about all of this was that people still often mistook Tetsurou for being an extrovert. Him. The man who was perfectly content at home on a Friday night trapped in a boyfriend-kitty snugglefest eating low-cal mint chocolate chip ice cream while wearing some slouchy, comfy-ass gym shorts and tank top combo and watching whatever garbage reality show was currently in season. 

Did he want to go out? Sometimes, sure, but not every week and not all the time. (Unless you counted the gym or his Saturday morning volleyball meetups. Those were _different_ because it mostly involved sweating and moving until his muscles wanted to snap. Less talking, more playing.) 

Occasionally, Kuroo made time to meet up with coworkers or friends for a drink after work, but that wasn't the norm by any stretch of the imagination. And although he had a big mouth on him nowadays that feature actually came from built-up confidence—not from extroversion. He needed quiet downtime at home like this just as much, if not more than Kenma did because he worked outside of the house and had to interact with people throughout the workday at the lab. Which he loved, _absolutely_ loved, but in order to recharge his mental batteries he needed to sit his ass down and just _be_ with himself for a while at the end of the day.

But he could still do that with Kenma. It was their "alone together" time. He treasured it just about as much as he treasured their funny conversations, petty arguments, and all the dirty, ego-boosting praise Kenma rationed out when he wanted Kuroo wet and wanting for him. (Okay, so maybe he _slightly_ prioritized any sort of sexy talk Kenma was willing to give, but it was _rare_ and _beautiful_ and his man parts needed as much love and attention as they could get, alright?)

This Kozume guy had him so completely wrapped around his finger it was absurd. Kuroo knew this, accepted this, and never denied the fact that he'd been whipped. Royally whipped even. He'd admit it. But unfortunately wanting to take care of his boyfriend was also sometimes at odds with the former setter's own wishes. 

Like right now. 

Trying to get anything in him so that he didn't wake him up at 4:00 AM needing food, but not knowing what the hell he wanted to eat. The blocker would, in fact, get up to make him something at any hour regardless of if he was sick or not. He really didn't mind doing so, but right now he was just worried that Kenma would unintentionally starve himself if he wasn't being a pushy butthole about forcing food in him.

Thankfully, Kenma did drink the soup from the straw and used the bendy utensil to scoop out the few measly solid bits leftover on the bottom. Kuroo finished all of his dinner in the same amount of time. 

Dark grays behind thick rimmed glasses piqued when they connected with gold. They both glanced down at everything left on the huge serving tray.

"Maybe later, but not now…" Kenma managed to get out, referring to the unfortunate abundant leftovers. His voice was noticeably quieter now with a raspy edge.

"Alright," Kuroo let out a deep breath as he caved. Obviously he had hoped for more, but there was only so much that could fit in this scrawny guy anyway. He would bring more later. Over and over again until he was sick of that too. 

The bed-headed fool took the tray from the bed and made to walk barefooted out the door.

"Is there anything else you actually want to eat though?" Kuroo physically back-tracked into the room, feeling hopeful that maybe he had just picked the wrong things. 

"No…" Kenma said neutrally as he shifted in the sheets to lie down like the little lump of misery that he was.

"Are you gonna try to go back to sleep?" His boyfriend pressed, unsure of what he wanted to do next. Maybe cuddles? Maybe games? Probably one of the two because going to sleep now would be like going to sleep at lunchtime for a normal daylight denizen.

"I don't think I can… I haven't even been awake all that long today," the former setter replied half into the blankets so that Kuroo only caught the general gist of what he was saying. Even from the door he could see Kenma's flushed cheeks and slowed, congested breathing. 

He just looked miserable. The tall cat felt so fucking guilty for doing this to him.

"Do you want your DS then?" Kuroo offered thinking that maybe it would help distract him from feeling like shit for a little while.

"It's a Switch…" Kenma corrected him then coughed harshly into his elbow.

"Switch, whatever. Is it in the charging base thingy?"

"Probably…"

"Okay. You need anything else?"

Kenma paused for a moment.

"...My laptop."

Kuroo's eyes narrowed as he unconsciously put his non-tray-holding hand on his hip and cocked his roosterhead slightly to the side as if he hadn't heard that correctly. Typical Tetsurou all-sass power move.

"Let me rephrase that. Do you need any _non-work_ related things?" Kuroo tried to keep to the irritation and combativeness out of his voice, but it was hard. How the _fuck_ did Kenma intend to work like this?

"You know I can still do email and things on my phone…" Came a defiant sniffed reply from the blanket pile who had now rolled over.

"I do know that. And you know I'll hide your phone from you until you get better if you do, so I wouldn't risk it if I were you. Anything else?"

The lump said nothing, probably because he was scowling and cursing his boyfriend for being such an overprotective dick right now.

Kuroo turned to leave.

"...Tea," a very small voice said quietly from behind him.

"Tea, okay, got it. Tea I can do. Decaf only though. Be right back little kitty."

—

Kuroo returned a short time later with a hot cup of tea, cold medicine, more water, his own tablet, and Kenma's Switch which had taken far too long to locate because it was in the _office_ charging dock that he forgot existed and not the living room one. Getting the stupid button wing controller things back on it had also been an exercise in self-control and patience he wasn’t antcipating on having tonight. In a rare snap of actual anger, Kenma had all out verbally assaulted him long ago for rage-quitting and throwing one of his controllers (which he did immediately feel bad about). Ever since then, the tall cat had tried to be more careful with the overpriced pieces of plastic that got to spend far too much time with his boyfriend’s hands than he did. Kuroo yearned for that level of attention to be paid to _his_ joystick.

The lanky blocker placed the drinks and meds on Kenma's bedside table, tossed the joy-conned Switch lightly onto the blankets, and sat down beside the heap of covers before he realized he should have made the damn bed before Kenma climbed in. Normally he took no issue with straightening out the covers even if his boyfriend was still in them (the cute disgruntled protests were highly amusing if anything), but he was trying to rein in his antagonism a bit tonight. He could tell Kenma wasn’t up for high-grade levels of bullshit or antics right now.

Kuroo's long still-tanned fingers took their time sorting through the layers of black and blonde silk on the pillow until they found his lover's face. Eyes closed, radiating warmth.

"There you are," he half smiled as he took in the sweet frown that he would have kissed away if it were any other night. His thumb brushed lightly over his boyfriend’s eyebrow, fingers curling and nestling around the shell of his ear to dip into his dark roots. All of his skin seemed to be burning like he’d fallen asleep under the maxed out kotatsu again.

Golden eyes fluttered partially open to acknowledge him, but then drifted shut again. The small cat smooshed his face into the pillow, leaning more into the tall cat's comforting touch.

Kuroo obliged and scratched his scalp through the messy dye-job that he still loved after all this time. Maybe Kenma wouldn't admit it, but the blocker swore he kept growing it because Kuroo had let it slip _once_ that he preferred long hair in a stupid-ass debate with Yaku. (If he'd remembered correctly, he specifically cited _girls_ in that argument too, though clearly he had less of an interest in chasing _those_ kind of pussy cats these days…) Honestly, Kuroo was just trying to egg that little libero brat on, but this sentiment must have stuck in Kenma's mind because he never once voluntarily had it cut after high school. 

Of course, sometimes it _had_ to be trimmed (a tiny bit), but Kenma _loathed_ this and refused to go to a salon instead preferring to have his mom come over and do it because she "wouldn't fuck it up." Kuroo would make lunch while she was over and they'd all catch up on things. It was nice. Kenma's mom was the best even if the two of them should have been old enough to have their shit together at this point. She didn't mind though, and they loved her for that among many other things.

"You sure you don't want to try to go back to sleep, babe?" Kuroo asked softly as he sorted all of his multi-colored strands up off the top of the pillow and ran his fingernails over the back of his exposed fiery neck. 

"It just feels good," Kenma non-replied through a sniffled mumble with still closed eyes. 

"I know. I'm sorry you feel like shit though," the roosterhead said quietly as he traced the line of his jaw with two knuckles.

"I haven't said that..." The small cat sniffed reaching for a tissue which his boyfriend leaned over to get out of the bedside drawer for him anyway.

"You don't need to say it, you clearly do," Kuroo countered softly without any bite whatsoever.

The blocker worked his way down past his companion's face and neck and was now onto drawing little invisible finger doodles across his black tank-topped shoulder and arm. Kenma loved to be gently tickled like this and it was sort of Kuroo's go-to cheat for getting him relaxed enough to go to sleep if he ever needed him to. Of course Kenma came to bed _much_ later than him usually, so these weren't an every night occurrence. It made them more coveted though. More precious.

"Well, I have tea and more water for yah here when you want it," Kuroo continued as he slowly traced the outline of a heart inside a heart on his boyfriend's skin. "Can you sit up to take this real quick?"

Kenma opened one eye and his face immediately soured. 

In general, he hated taking any sort of medicine, pain killers, or supplements even if they were supposed to help him feel better. There was definitely some baggage leftover from younger days when he suffered from high anxiety, but it was still a rather peculiar attitude to have considering he'd been dating Mr. Lemme Explain How It Works science freak himself for the better part of the last decade. Kuroo struggled just to convince him to even take daily gummy vitamins, and even then he was certain it was because they were easy and essentially tasted like fruit candy.

"I know you don't want to and most drugs are placebos, yadda, yadda, yadda, conspiracy, yadda, but can you _please_ just do it for me?" Kuroo begged, preemptively cracking open the child-proof lid on the bottle.

"...Fine."

"Yea, but—"

Wait. 

Fine?

Kuroo expected far more pushback than this. _Holy shit,_ it was worse than he thought.

Kenma sneezed (that adorable tiny, but mighty sneeze) once again—luckily more into the sheets than on Kuroo who hurried to pour him the right dose before he changed his mind. A moment later Kenma begrudgingly sat back up and swallowed the entire disgusting shot in one go. He then hit Kuroo's arm quickly which was Kenma sign language for _"Water please. Now."_

After he'd chugged plenty of the new ice water to vanquish the awful, laughably _not_ cherry taste from his mouth he tapped his boyfriend again (much more softly this time) and the tall cat handed him the little mug of decaf black tea. He held the steaming vessel up to his face and closed his bag-ridden golden eyes again.

"You just wanted the heat, didn't you?" Kuroo asked with an amused side-eye grin. It was funny how fevers worked. You could be blazing hot and freezing cold at the same time and not be able to do much to solve either discomfort. What a jumbled mess of body chemistry and bullshit to deal with. His poor boyfriend didn't deserve this.

"The steam," Kenma answered simply.

"Ah! Sinus relief. You little genius, you," Kuroo grinned more as he watched Kenma inhale the wispy threads of water vapor in an attempt to loosen up his congestion.

"You could have gotten a shower for the same effect yanno," the blocker pointed out, grazing a finger along his companion's exposed knee just below the hem of his comfy shorts. He still had a very faint scar there from when he'd fallen off his bike when they were kids. Tetsurou had helped him limp his bloody leg all the way home that day and then led his dad back to the crime scene to pick up their abandoned bikes. Despite this fond skin memory, Kenma didn't have near as many scars as Kuroo did.

"Too much work," the small cat stated blandly. This made no sense because Kenma didn't even really _stand_ in the shower if he didn't have to...

 _"I_ could have gotten you in the shower," Kuroo reframed, insinuating that Kenma could just be a sitting, melting blob in the tub under the hot water while the blocker washed his back and hair and all of that for him. He'd done it before, but it was a pretty rare thing. Kenma generally liked his alone time in the mist.

"This is fine," the former setter said softly to his mug as his voice and overall energy slowly drained HP.

"Are you actually going to drink it?" Kuroo raised a dark eyebrow beyond his thickly-framed glasses as he eyed the hot cup in between the gamer's pale fingers.

"Maybe."

"If you don't, can I drink it?"

"If you want my cooties, sure."

"Kenma, let's not pretend that I didn't share my cooties with you in the first place."

"Always sharing. So considerate."

 _"Hey,_ come on. I feel like the world's biggest douchebag for getting you sick as it is and—"

"I know," Kenma interrupted low and froggy. "I'm kidding."

"Yea, well, I'm not," Kuroo huffed, pouting out his lip a bit. "This is why I shut you out so many times before when you tried to be there for me Kenma. It's not worth it if it gets you sick too."

"Yea, it is," the gamer argued in a raspy whisper as he blew on and sipped some of his tea. 

Kuroo stared at him with a mixture of hopeless affection and exasperated worry. He loved their banter, but he was probably pushing him to talk too much considering his throat was probably fucked up too. 

"I'll lay with you, kay? Got my tablet so I can watch stuff and you can beat up some poor defenseless blood-sucking cave zombies or whatever."

Kenma rolled his golden eyes and shook his head at Kuroo's typical total lack of video game awareness. He was always making shit up or mashing genres together with other nonsensical, random tidbits of games in order to poke fun at him. It was all love though, Kenma knew that. And it was fair because he busted Kuroo's balls for other things. 

So after a few more minutes enjoying the steam and comfort from the tea, Kenma put it down and nestled back into the covers on his stomach while Kuroo threw another blanket over his shoulders. He pressed his Switch to life and the low loading screen music chirped between their pillows. 

Kuroo got up and proceeded to peel out of his tank, thumbed off his gym shorts (because he never liked to sleep with "restrictions"), and climbed onto his side of the bed in his cheeky underwear. Leaning against the cushioned headboard he popped in one bluetooth earbud and turned on his tablet, which was rife with notifications including some for Kenma's most recent YouTube posts. 

He didn't actually _watch_ many of his talented boyfriend's videos (sadly he was not the target audience therefore they were normally a snoozefest to him), but he liked to be vaguely aware of just how much Kenma was busting his ass to get content out. He usually produced one video each week, but sometimes more. Most of the production and post-prod work Kenma did himself, but sometimes Kuroo got to play hot camera guy for him if he needed another angle or more dynamic footage that tripods couldn't deliver. 

Luckily, the little video editor nearly always wiped the captured audio, swapping in his own voiceover, background music, and subtle sound effects. This was because more than half of the recorded sound consisted of Kuroo asking a range of questions (from serious to inanely stupid) and making inappropriate jokes while Kenma tried desperately not to lose his shit directing him. 

Kuroo thought he was a great camera man. Kenma said he was "barely passable," and yet the tall cat's footage nearly _always_ made the cut. 

But the blocker didn't recognize any of the new Kodzuken content titles at all, so he assumed he hadn't helped with those and quickly swiped the notifications away. Instead, he settled for a new lifting, training, and nutrition vlog by that baldy crow guy from Karasuno. He wasn't half bad at the YouTubes himself either. Kuroo found his low-budget effects and frank, fiery commentary rather entertaining as well as educational. Who knew that bird-brained blockhead spiker would go on to do something so useful? Could any idiot with a camera have their own moderately successful vlog these days? What content would Kuroo have if HE had his own channel? 

_Science at Home: How to Replicate the Five Stages of Decomposition if You Don't Have a Body(part) Handy! 》_

_Career Suicide Tip #13: Testifying as an Expert Witness While Hungover 》_

_Secrets of a Crime Scene Blood Whisperer: Part 4 》_

_Under the Microscope: Hair, Piss, and Other Fun Shit You Get to Deal With in the Lab 》_

_BS TV Myths: No, You Can’t Have the Toxicology Report by Tomorrow 》_

Okay. 

So maybe he should never, EVER have a YouTube channel. 

Kuroo made peace with this fact as he auto-played his way through a few more of Tanaka's quirky, upbeat workout videos. 

Honestly, he was fine with never being YouTube famous. His job was meant to stay at the lab, on crime scenes, in court—not to bring it home and make it flashy for curious eyes online. But more than that, his "job" as a good boyfriend, food-bringer, snuggle-giver, part-time camera guy and full-time lover was what he wanted to focus on in his life outside of his career anyway. He wanted to be the one who Kenma could count on no matter what, which he was doing. Sort of. Getting him sick wasn't exactly his _smoothest_ move, but he was trying to make up for it. He was here after all. In bed beside Kenma stupid early in the evening as he played his silly—

Goddammit, he wasn't even playing!

Kuroo tapped pause on Tanaka’s straining face mid deadlift demonstration and adjusted his glasses like he didn't believe what he was seeing. 

Kenma's face was half buried in his pillow having fallen fast asleep still clutching his Switch. His character was slowly dying from being stabbed to death by some weird-looking… shadow thing? 

Kuroo didn't know what the fuck it was, but he hastily snatched the game from his boyfriend's limp fingers and button-mashed frantically until he'd outrun the ugly demon wisp monster. He hid in the dank water of a rundown city river canal because that's where he'd fallen in and lost the creepy killer yokai. But the HP bar was all red and super low and he had no _fucking clue_ how to look at inventory to eat some shrooms or whatever the hell characters did to get their life points back. 

This shit was _stressful!_

How on earth his boyfriend enjoyed these voluntarily added problems to life always completely eluded him...

By haphazardly pressing more buttons he eventually found the one that asked if he'd like to save and quit, which he did _immediately_ because he didn't want that goddamn shadow baby souleater nonsense to come back and kill Kenma's avatar. He still had no idea what game this was or how badly he may have fucked it up, but he ran away and didn't _die_ so score one for Tetsurou. He had to admit, perhaps there were _some_ life lessons to get out of video games. Running away from your problems only to have them chase you down until you fall into a river of sewage was probably a metaphor for doing drugs or something. He’d studied enough whacked out organ tissues to confirm the drugs turn your body to sewage theory at least.

The tall cat exhaled and set the gaming device on his own side table, widening his eyes, and taking off his glasses to rub them. More stress on top of work stress? Hell to the no—kay, thanks, bye.

Turning back to his boyfriend, Kuroo set his frames and tablet aside and gazed at his sleeping face which had melted into neutral peace instead of neutral uncomfortable grumpiness. He always looked beautiful when he slept, but he didn't always look this… 

Well, old.

He flinched even thinking about it because Kenma would _definitely_ hit him if he ever dared to say it aloud. He didn't mean it _that_ way exactly, he just didn't have as much of a round baby face anymore. He'd thinned out a little and grew into his youth if that made any sense. Like his young adult, young _man,_ youth. He couldn't be mistaken for a kid anymore even if he did still wear hoodies and play his games out in public when he trailed behind Kuroo and their friends during day trips or dinners or matches. Maybe he'd still get carded at bars they occasionally dragged him to, but _maybe not_ too. Kenma just seemed super handsome now. Still cute, obviously he'd _always_ be cute to Kuroo, but objectively speaking…

He was hot. 

Like… swipe right kind of hot. 

Of course he was attractive to his _boyfriend_ , but now there was just something else there that hadn't been before. Maturity? Boss man energy? Badassery? Kuroo wondered how long he'd been like this, or if he was always this way and it just never occurred to him that he was dating a total epic fox daddy that other people may actually be envious of. 

Kenma would not endorse any of these musings if he were awake. 

He would tell him to shut up and stop projecting his weird sex-envy fantasies onto faceless strangers who didn't exist because Kuroo was the only one who loved him like that and the only one who ever would. End of story.

But Kuroo actually doubted this. Kenma was prickly at times sure, but he was also the most lovable, sweet, funny, and smart person he'd ever met. If he himself wasn't here to love him, others would. Others already _do_ just not in a romantic way. 

...Or _DID_ they? 

That Hinata kid had grown awfully close to him, especially in recent years with all the shit they had collectively been through. Kuroo would be lying to himself if he said he never once felt pangs of jealousy spike up because of that little orange haired runt. Were there others too? Others who would love him in his place if he ever wasn't here to take care of him? 

Kuroo hoped he never lived long enough to find out. 

He wanted to be right here always, laying beside Kenma for the rest of his days no matter how long he had. He wanted to be the one who gave him cuddles when he was sick and who made him laugh when he felt better. He wanted to be the person who embarrassed him with his pride and shameless bragging about all the awesome shit Kenma was doing with his life now that his startup company was gaining momentum and his other pursuits were also getting traction. Kuroo wanted more than anything to be the one who got to come home to him every day, kiss his hair behind his headset, and ask him what he wanted for dinner even though inevitably Kenma would say he didn't know and Kuroo would make what he'd planned to anyway. 

He'd pivot in a heartbeat for Kenma and there wasn't much he wouldn't do for him, other than let him work himself to death. But he wasn't going to let that happen. He loved him too much for that. He'd protect him from himself and nobody else could do that for him… 

Right?

Shit. He was far too young for this level of existential anxiety. 

Kuroo shook his head to clear his unproductive worries, took a deep breath, and decided that he'd just call it lights out even though it was closer to a child's bedtime than a grown-ass man's. He could use the extra Z's anyway because his fitness tracker always fucked him out of “actual” minutes slept vs. restless awake time. Maybe right now he really just needed to stop thinking and simply cuddle with his boyfriend. That was never a bad idea. And it was the best thing he could do considering he'd already hydrated, medicated, and apparently gamed the poor guy to sleep.

The tall cat switched off the bedside lamp and scooted down into the cozy covers next to his little companion who was radiating heat. Too much heat.

Tugging the shoulder blanket off him a bit, Kuroo couldn't help tucking a stray lock of hair back behind his ear. Kenma's face was so, so warm and although he already knew it in his gut he felt his forehead with his hand anyway and confirmed that, yes, he had a fever and there was no doubt in his mind where he'd gotten it from. What a jerk he was for not maintaining his almost militant rule about quarantining himself when he was sick so that Kenma didn't have to repeat it ten times worse than him. How was he going to make it up to him? 

The bed-headed fool didn't have all the answers. He'd have to figure something out in the morning though because his brain was completely fried at the moment.

With that, Kuroo pressed a deep, loving kiss to Kenma's searing temple and stroked his shoulder until he himself fell asleep to the soft pattering autumn rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Kuroken day to all! Had I known about this earlier I might have expedited a few more in-progress stories with these two, but alas I don't have these sorts of things on my actual calendar so... here we are.
> 
> Anyway, hope you're all well and not spreading germs like Kuroo! Don't be a Kuroo kids.


	3. Risk Management

There was sunlight peeking into the room when Kenma woke to a warm, empty bed.

He hated mornings with a verifiable passion, but he should have expected as much based on how early he must have fallen asleep. His body ached from having been still for so long, or maybe part of it was this stupid shitty cold. He didn't know. Everything just… hurt.

Kenma sniffed and rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm trying to remember…

Oh, that's right. 

Kuroo _drugged_ him. 

Cute. Real cute. No wonder he slept like the dead.

The small cat only felt bitter for a moment before he sighed and admitted (a tiny bit) that his boyfriend was just looking out for him. Just trying to do what he could to make him feel better in the ways that he knew how.

But he was gone now. 

Off to work as usual leaving Kenma to fend for himself like he always did from noon until dusk when Kuroo came home. Unlike most days though, he had an _actual_ morning to deal with because there was no way he could sleep any longer. Ugh. 

The scrawny gamer got up stiffly to go pee and brush his teeth. When he was finished, he grabbed a fuzzy blanket off the bed that just barely covered himself down to his butt then padded socked feet and skinny legs down the hallway to see if he could find anything to eat. Maybe Kuroo left him a sticky note with something easy to microwave. That would be nice. His boyfriend was always thoughtful like that. Especially when he knew Kenma was having a bad day (or week) in general. Whether the stocks were down, BB Corp internal board bullshit was up, or he'd received more dislikes and vile flamer troll hate on a new post than he was anticipating—Kuroo knew how to make him smile again. He knew how to ground him in what actually mattered. 

Kenma vaguely wished he'd stayed conscious longer last night so he could have enjoyed the extra cuddle time with his sweet, if slightly overbearing, boyfriend. Usually he himself was the one who came to bed mega late and crept into the sheets to press his cold toes into Kuroo's warm, furry soft legs while clinging the rest of his lithe body around him. Damn Kuroo and his goddamn snuggle-blocking nighttime drugs...

Although it was a bit chilly, the kitchen welcomed the groggy gamer with cheery morning light that made rainbows from the tiny crystal prisms hanging among the air plants in the window above the kitchen sink. The rain from the night before had all vanished into puffy white clouds scattered above their garden, the power lines, and the row of tall privacy trees outside. It looked like a beautiful day to throw on a light jacket and get some fresh air.

Kenma hated it.

It was too bright and too much for his eyes, which also hurt for some stupid reason. His throat and his head were not great, but not the worst either. Numb almost. Although that was probably more from the leftover knock-you-on-your-ass cold medicine drowsiness than anything else. They would likely get worse again as its effects wore off. Kenma sighed and sluggishly treaded over to the fridge in search of food.

Just then, their fluffy calico bounded over and wrapped his bottlebrush tail around his leg—chirping a friendly good morning hello as the former setter bent over to pat him. He was a good boy, this cat. Very rambunctious, but very sweet all the same. Kenma wondered if Kuroo had maybe forgotten to—

"Already fed them."

Kenma practically jumped out of his skin, scaring the cat, and nearly tripping over himself in his burrito blanket state.

 _"Christ,_ what the… What are you _doing_ here, Kuroo?" Kenma strained his scratchy voice as he stared shocked at his boyfriend getting up from the couch and stretching out his long, lanky body. The tall cat was dressed in comfy sweats and a clean navy tee that rode up revealing his tawny abs as he popped a few joints in his back.

"Well, well, well, good morning to you _too_ little kitty."

Kuroo sauntered into the kitchen, took off his glasses, and set them down with a few papers on the island so that he could freely wrap his arms around his little boyfriend. He planted a quick kiss into the hair of a thoroughly confused Kenma.

"Don't you have work? It's a _Wednesday_ Kuroo," Kenma continued as the blocker pulled him closer into a proper hug. The small cat didn't protest, but he also didn't reciprocate—arms still safely tucked inside his warm cocoon as his much taller companion squeezed him tight.

"Yes and yes. I'm so glad you can recall what day it is," Kuroo crooned, swaying him a bit in his arms and nuzzling the top of his frazzled head with his nose. 

"Don't be a smartass. Why are you here?" The pro gamer shot back in froggy agitation from Kuroo's collarbone. 

"You should save your voice babe. I'm working from home. I didn't take off, so don't have kittens over it."

This was Kuroo's less combative, PG way of saying _"Don't bite my dick off, I'm being responsible."_

"Why are you working from home?" Kenma asked as he unintentionally coughed hard right into his boyfriend's t-shirted chest because Kuroo was refusing to let go of him. So much for basic hygienic decency.

"Because you're still sick and you need someone around to make you eat," Kuroo kissed his roots again which would have been nice if it didn't follow that patronizing comment.

"I'll manage," Kenma squirmed in Kuroo's toned arms.

"Too late! I'm already here and I'm _not_ going in now," the blocker stated brightly, finally letting go and moving to the fridge.

"How the hell are you even able to work from home?" Kenma asked suspiciously, eyeballing the piles of folders and papers littering the coffee table and couch. Kuroo's work laptop sat open atop them.

"Not _everything_ has to be done in the lab, Kenma. I have a crap ton of reports and other things I have to do for cases that don't involve physically analyzing evidence that's already been—"

"I'll be fine," the small cat interrupted, cutting to the chase before Kuroo got off on another ridiculous, probably unnecessarily gory, forensics tangent. Thanks to Kuroo he knew a lot of gross things he wished he _didn't._

"That you will be, my little kitty! Because I'm not going anywhere!" The tall cat chimed from inside the fridge. He pulled out some apple juice and set it on the counter before continuing to rifle through the shelves—banging and moving things around as he went.

Whelp. Kenma's day was officially fucked.

"Why don't you go get comfy or take a shower and I'll bring you something if you give me, like, twenty minutes," the blocker offered as he absent-mindedly tossed a stick of butter onto the counter too.

"Kuroo. _No._ I know what you're doing and I _don't_ need it," Kenma tried to state as forcefully as he could but it just sounded all wrong thanks to his stuffy nasal congestion and sore throat situation.

"You… you don't need pancakes?" The rooster-headed fool blinked innocently as he held two eggs in one hand and a carton of milk in the other beside the ajar refrigerator door.

"No, not—will you _listen_ to me?" Kenma demanded, his voice cracking as Kuroo set down the ingredients and continued to pull out measuring cups and a large glass bowl.

"I'm listening!" Kuroo balked defensively getting the batter mix box out of a cabinet next.

"You're _pancaking,"_ the semi blonde huffed, wanting to stomp his foot like a little kid but knowing that wouldn't do any good. Kuroo would think it was _cute_ and that was _not_ what he wanted right now.

"I can do both Kenma. I have more than two brain cells yanno."

Kenma scowled. Hard. 

This was all very bad.

"I don't need you to miss work for me," Kenma elaborated in exasperation as he felt the sudden urge to combo sneeze, which thankfully he was able to aim into the blanket.

"I'm not missing work! I have plenty of work to do. Butt tons of work," Kuroo argued dismissively as he shook his head and began cracking eggs and pouring the other ingredients into the bowl. 

"You can't do it all here," the small cat mumbled feebly, feeling like he had lost the argument because he didn’t have anything better to counter with at this point. His head had begun to throb again.

"Doesn't matter. I've got plenty to keep me busy on my laptop and nobody cares as long as shit gets filed when it needs to be and data gets delivered. I'm doing my job Kenma— _yours_ is to get better,” his boyfriend accusingly poked a batter-dripping spoon in his direction. Kuroo then realized he had flung some of it onto the island and the floor and hastily tucked the utensil back into the mixing bowl before he made an even bigger mess. A hot second later, he grabbed a dish towel from the oven to wipe it up before their very interested fluff cat licked it.

Kenma wanted to do quite a few things in that moment, but instead he took an uneasy congested breath, turned on his heel, and walked away.

"Fifteen minutes!" Kuroo called after him as he perched the hand still holding the dish towel on his hip and fired up the gas burner for the flat griddle.

The small cat sighed in defeat as he slumped back to their bedroom and then collapsed face down into the sheets.

Today was a live stream day. 

Kuroo was home.

He was so fucked.

—

As predicted, Kuroo was a helpful/not-helpful nuisance working from home.

Kenma had showered and begrudgingly eaten the pancakes even though he couldn't taste much of them. Kuroo tried to set him up in the bedroom by moving the living room Switch charging dock to his bedside table and stocking the little drawer full of other snacks and more tissues. He brought ginger candies, another jumbo MSBY sports cup full of ice water, and a few other random game devices in hopes that his boyfriend would take the bait and just chill the rest of the day.

Kenma, however, was not in the chilling mood.

"Kuroo, I _need_ my laptop," the former setter demanded hoarsely as he stared up at him from the bed with an epicly-intense negotiation face. The one he normally reserved for high-stakes business deals or when he had to vehemently defend his non-participation in whatever Tetsurou and their insane friends wanted him to join in on.

Kuroo stopped fussing with trying to figure out which plug in the power strip behind the nightstand to sacrifice for the Switch charger and visibly hesitated. Dark eyes flickering anywhere but his boyfriend's slightly intimidating leer. His mouth hung slightly open, paused in thought. 

Then he sighed. 

"Kenma… we both know you're going to work if I give you your laptop," he stated both slowly and wearily. It was a fact. No way around it.

Golden eyes kept their unchanging, dead serious gaze on him. Though they were still a bit red and glassy.

"I need my laptop," Kenma repeated bluntly.

"You need to rest," Kuroo countered.

"I will rest. With my laptop."

"What if I said no?"

"Then I will go get it myself."

"So you're saying I have to hide it now?"

 _"Don't_ you dare," Kenma warned in a low gravelly tone as he broke the staring contest in order to hack an earnest lung into his hoodied elbow. He sounded dreadful.

"You're not giving me a lot of choices here babe," Kuroo tried to sound reasonable, but he knew he was probably kinda desperate too.

Kenma finished coughing a minute later and then sniffed miserably.

"Please…" 

The small cat wouldn't look at him now. The tiniest traces of restless mild panic were starting to break through his big boss man facade. Kuroo loved his entrepreneurial badass poker face, but he really, _really_ died for his adorably defeated pout.

"Ooohhhhwaahh, Kenma _donnn'ttttt,"_ the tall cat whined as he kneeled one leg into the bed and wrapped his tan arms and torso protectively around the multi-colored, sloppy-bunned head. The gamer’s damp hair still smelled nice from the shower—a kind of sweet and spiced citrus or something.

Kenma sniffed again even though it did nothing to clear his airway.

"Baby, I _know_ you want to work, but you'll get better quicker if you don't stress yourself out so much," Kuroo explained in his deep, rumbling voice as he rested his cheek on top of Kenma's head. He didn't exactly mean for the rare pet name to slip out, but he only ever used it when Kenma needed some pity (welcome or unwelcome) and right now he _definitely_ needed babying and looking after.

"It's not stressful," Kenma insisted immediately, leaning his head away but otherwise ignoring the fact that Kuroo was smothering him.

"I played your game for like, five minutes last night and it _was_ stressful."

"Why were you playing my game?"

"Because you fell asleep!" Kuroo let go of his head-hug vice grip to look him in the eyes even though his boyfriend still refused to look back.

"Only because you _drugged_ me," Kenma mumbled bitterly, feeling like he should have just waited another ten minutes for Kuroo to buzz off and then snuck into his office himself. 

"Oh, come _ON_ babe. You needed it, you were _miserable."_

"I'm still miserable," the former setter pouted.

"Exactly!" Kuroo let go of him completely, gesturing both hands to the ceiling as if divine knowledge had finally blessed them.

"No, not _'exactly!'"_ Kenma strained his cracking voice and felt like this conversation had completely gone off the fucking rails.

"You need to drink," his boyfriend said in a tone that was still demanding, but gentler overall as he poked the huge memorabilia water cup into Kenma's hands repeatedly until he took it. 

Defeated (again), the semi blonde accepted the drink and sourly sucked on the bendy straw. Maybe he could still work around this somehow. Maybe he just had to get creative...

"Anything else I can get you that is not BB Corp, streaming, trading, filming, YouTubing, or in any way business-related?" The roosterhead asked sincerely, still standing by the bed looking genuinely concerned.

"No…" Kenma sighed feeling the exhaustion of this argument finally settle in. How the _fuck_ did Kuroo keep winning these...

"Okay," Kuroo said quietly as he thumbed his boyfriend’s warm, flushed cheeks and swiftly kissed his forehead. "Just chill today, okay? No one is gonna notice if you're gone for a day or two."

Kenma said nothing as the tall cat left the room.

Kuroo had no idea what forces he was dealing with.

And people were definitely going to notice. 

—

_Wtf two weeks in row?? Kodzu whyyyyyyyyfrjrxjswyjxwy_

_Is ur cat still sick? :((((_

_NooooOOOOoooOOOOOOOIIoooooooo >o< _

_Chill peeps, KDZK isnt dead… hes just MIA forevr_

_When wil u be bakc tho???_

_Pls god let him be on ths wekend..._

_FMMMMMMMMLLLLLLLLLLLLL_

Yes. That is exactly how Kenma felt as the disappointed tweets and notifications started to pour in. 

All he did was post a pre-emptive heads up that he would likely be unable to stream today for personal reasons, thanked people again for supporting him, and told them to check out some of his other content in the meantime. Maybe he'd have to post this weekend's video early to partially sate them too. Sure it wasn't live action Kodzuken PVP ass-kickery, but he was pretty certain it would be damn near impossible to sneak into his office to use his professional gaming PC, widescreen monitors, and surround sound headset in order to actually stream properly.

At this point, the best Kenma could hope for was his laptop so he could at least keep going with all the other crap he had on his docket for the week. 

In fact, maybe he could shift some production work up that way he could swap it with stream time. There was a vendor call he was supposed to be on tomorrow for BB Corp, but he could just have someone else take it (he didn't really want to be on it anyway). The call with one of his board members however might need to be rescheduled if this bled into tomorrow. He hated doing calls outside of his designated BB Corp day anyway though. Everything was supposed to be hashed out in meetings and regroups on Mondays and then he'd answer email and do work-work throughout the rest of the week between his other content schedules. He often preferred the unproductivity of meetings to be shortened by the narrow time parameters, but because they did business on a global scale now it was hard to tell certain people no. Hence, the occasional stupid mid-week meeting or two.

Fuck, he was going to get so far behind if he couldn't just knock out some of the shit he had to do...

Kenma's head pulsed with rushing blood. He could feel it in his face and he wished he couldn't because sometimes that meant he was going to get a migraine and he didn't need one of those on top of feeling like a dumpster fire.

He shifted out of his hoodie for the third time knowing full well in another five minutes he'd be too cold and put it back on again. Off, on, hot, cold, sweating his balls off, shivering under every blanket they owned—it was SO annoying and hard to gauge his body's reactions other than it probably wanted exactly the opposite of whatever he had at the moment.

As much as he wished he could just peace out and rest like his boyfriend had asked him to that just wasn't realistic. That's not how being an entrepreneur worked and Kuroo didn't understand because he got to take off his lab coat at the end of the day and leave it all behind. Kenma couldn't do that unless he wanted his multiple revenue streams to dry up. Although they never really talked about it, Kenma had a thin level of business paranoia that never quite disappeared with the other anxieties he had worked hard to rid himself of. He was the breadwinner (by a lot actually) at their house and there were small, annoying voices inside who cropped up every so often to whisper their seeds of doubt.

_This could all go away in an instant._

_You can't have a job you love and make money for long._

_This won't last forever._

_You're a fake._

_You're an imposter._

_Someday they'll find out and it'll all be over with._

Sometimes he really did feel like an imposter. His life coach said many people felt that way in their successful careers and it was just another form of self-sabotage that was the mind's way of taking something that was working and making a problem out of it. He wasn't supposed to listen to those thoughts. He was supposed to take a deep breath, acknowledge the feeling, then kindly ask it to leave because it wasn't helpful or productive or conducive to "living your best life."

But that was real fucking easy say and a lot harder to actually _do._

Kenma sniffed his red nose and fidgeted in bed, staring up at the ceiling wishing like always that he was less prone to anxiety than he was. 

He'd been able to defeat a lot of the social demons in his younger years by having more autonomy over his schedule, college classes, and the beginnings of his startup, but he didn't know there would be other mental roadblocks to take their place. His brain didn't shut off when it came to BB Corp or his YouTube channel or his live streams. They were like the babies he never had and he loved them, cared for them, and helped them grow in some capacity every single day. Parents didn't get days off from their children for being sick, so in the same vein Kenma didn't get days off from his businesses even if he felt like total epic garbage. 

Yea, he couldn't do this. 

The agitated gamer coughed hard and rough into his elbow as he threw off the sweaty sheet he'd been fanning himself with and got out of bed.

He had to make himself useful, even just a little bit to shut up the voices who told him he was being weak and could lose the progress of the empires he had worked so goddamn hard to establish. He would just have to find ways to dodge his nagging, well-intentioned blocker of a boyfriend if he was going to camp out in the house to spy on him and make him food.

Kenma didn't know it, but having spent more than half his life handling his best-friend-turned-boyfriend's anxieties Kuroo understood almost exactly what he was feeling right now. And not just the shittiness of the same stupid germs, but the mind games he was playing with himself and the guilt that Kenma felt for taking time away from his ventures. Sure, the small cat would make time to do things with or for Kuroo (as evidenced by his own nasty lame-ass battle with this freak cold). However, when it came to anything for _himself..._ Well, Kenma had trouble understanding that he needed to show the same kindness to the person struggling with the detangling spray in the mirror.

Which is precisely why Kuroo attached not one, but a string of six kitty tinkle balls above the gaming office door and immediately stopped typing his report when he heard them all crash chimingly to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh, Kenma what have you done? Haha... I can only imagine how many booby traps, forts, and other things the two of them set up together as kids so it shouldn't have been too much of a surprise that Kuroo would pull something like that, right?
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed the banter, quirks, and sweetness as much as I did. If so, let me know! I run on very little sleep, tea, and feedback these days. 😅


	4. Work Hard, Play Harder

As predicted, the tinkling chorus of cat toys was immediately followed up by the quick-paced, heavy-footed pounding of steps against tatami then wooden floor.

 _"Kenma!_ NO! No, no, no, no, _no!"_ Kuroo shouted at an incredibly unnecessary volume as he launched himself down the short hallway like the trap-engaged attack panther he was. 

In the blink of an eye the blocker violently kicked several of the boobytrap tinkle balls from his path, slammed one huge hand over the partially opened office doorway, and used the other to force back the hot, sweaty forehead of his thoroughly annoyed boyfriend who was now coughing harshly in aggravated mortification. 

Kuroo was not the least bit deterred as Kenma hopelessly struggled to direct his hacking germs down and away from him. The gamer attempted to swat off the offending hand preventing him from any tiny sliver of productivity he believed he could have managed that day.

 _"Move_ —ackk, auchkk," the small cat harshly hissed through raspy congestion. He couldn't reach his boyfriend's big, stupid body like this but he sure as hell could claw the shit out of his arm.

"Babe! Do you even _hear_ yourself right now? You're spreading the plague like it's triple bonus points if you lose a lung in the process! Back down little zombie kitten, back DOWN!" Kuroo barked far too loudly for his companion's maturing migraine. 

Kenma's black and blonde bangs were thoroughly mussed from the careless friction of Kuroo's cool hand keeping him at bay, but that didn't stop him from glaring golden daggers through the tanned fingers caging his face as he sniffed miserably. He was forcing him back towards their room. Away from the things he _had_ to do.

"I need… I can't… Oh my god, if you don't let go Kuroo—"

Miraculously, Kenma gained ground (probably because Kuroo let him) and he landed face first into the blocker's chest, squirming against him with rapidly waning strength. The tall cat snatched his burning cheeks in both hands, squishing them as he shook his lover's head ever so gently for emphasis.

"Kenma. You. Need. _Rest._ You need to let all of the shit in _here,_ " he borrowed one hand to gesture wildly at the dark glowing gaming office space behind him. "Stop bothering you in _here,_ " he poked his sweaty, scrawny tank-topped chest. "So you can get better _here,"_ Kuroo explained more softly as he returned his huge volley-worn hand to the flushed cheek and kissed his forehead forcefully.

"Are you calling me mental?" Kenma latched onto his companion's strong, affection-giving face and shoved it as hard as he could. Kuroo's roosterhead barely moved to the side, though he did frown deeply.

"No, I'm calling you what you ARE, which is an over-concerned workaholic tech junkie who doesn't understand that his _health_ is more important than his views or likes or clicks or the goddamn saving of the realm of men—"

"Kuroo, I swear to _god_ if you don't get out of my way you will be jerking off alone for the next month. _Minimally,"_ Kenma bitterly coughed out with all the serious bossman vitriol he could muster.

"What?! _Kenma!_ Fuck… I… You..." Kuroo blustered as he struggled against the persistent little gamer at his chest. 

"Upptt, but—but Miho-san said you shouldn't use sex as a bargaining chip! It's not _cool_ man!" The lanky blocker whined loud enough to gain the attention of both their sleepy house cats who blinked slowly down the hall at the strange scene unfolding between their dads.

"I believe she said _affection,"_ Kenma snipped recalling his life coach's exact words while trying to squeeze under his boyfriend's arm to get through to his office.

"Sex _IS_ affection!" Kuroo's deep frustrated voice broke at having to choose between the two highly conflicting interests.

"Not the kind we'd be having," the semi blonde deadpanned while attempting to pry at least one of his boyfriend's hands off him by the wrist.

 _"Kenma,_ I am _trying_ to take care of you, but I can't _DO_ that if you keep making these big, baseless threats against me!" The tall cat balked helplessly as he felt his little companion go limp against him.

"Why don't you block me for one more minute and see how baseless they are," Kenma promised through another series of stunted, hoarse coughs that he tried to muffle inside himself because he wanted Kuroo to feel the full force of his golden glare but still didn't prefer to straight up hack into his face.

"Christ, I can't… I won't… Shit, fine. _Fine!_ I'll give it up then," Kuroo finally conceded much to Kenma's silent exhausted relief.

However, half a moment later the former setter bumped into the impassable blocker's chest yet _again._

"I thought you were giving up? _Move,"_ Kenma sniffed sending another irritated glance up into those uncharacteristically serious dark gray eyes beyond the black layers of bedhead fringe.

"I meant the sex."

Kenma cursed internally. It was the last thing he could think of to hold over him. 

"Babe, I love you, but I can't let you make decisions that are only going to _hurt_ you. You need to CHILL—not stress out for hours on end checking email, dealing with bullshit company politics, and fighting assholes on the internet whether it's the bottom-feeding haters in the comment threads or the noob sacrifices in the Kodzuken blood bowl. You. Need. To. REST." Kuroo shook him by the shoulders with a truly exasperated, yet determined expression worrying his face.

The house was quiet and still for a long moment. Down by the kitchen their black cat flicked his long silky tail, watching his humans with muted interest through wise thin slits.

"…I know," Kenma admitted quietly into Kuroo's shoulder. He sniffed and wiped his nose rather pathetically with the back of his hand. "I get it..."

 _"Thank_ you," Kuroo sighed out, leaning his forehead on top of the frazzled roots of what used to be Kenma's precious pudding head. 

"...But I still have to do the bare minimum Kuroo. There's only one of me and it's not like I can just have someone cover when—"

Kuroo let out a dramatically long, suffering groan.

"You have an assistant! Let them assist!" The tall cat smacked a massive palm down his fringe-covered face, shook his head in disbelief, and stared wide-eyed towards the ceiling like he was pleading for divine intervention at this point.

"He can only do so much—" Kenma started before his face froze like he was about to sneeze.

"Maybe he'd be happy to take on more! Career progression doesn't happen unless you stretch yourself!" Kuroo argued half in exasperation and half in incredulous shock that they were still having this conversation.

The small cat did sneeze. A few times. It was equal parts adorable and terribly sympathy-inducing.

"...Exactly. Which is why I need my stupid—ackk—stupid—auck ack ack…" Kenma tried to finish his thought, but he just couldn't. He was attempting to breathe and talk and not hack his lungs out, but it was too hard. His chest ached with exhaustion and he was absolutely losing his voice to this exceptionally ridiculous argument.

Dark gray eyes softened tenderly. Kuroo loosened his broad shoulders and overall combat defense stance, gently drawing his miserable little boyfriend to his chest for a sincere hug that meant to convey understanding, concern, and deep affection all at once. Kenma did not resist.

"Can we just make a deal? You like deals," the blocker rumbled softly above him. His angular chin rested lightly atop his head.

"What do you mean…" Kenma sniffed, closing his golden eyes as Kuroo's warmth and comfort bled into him. His head and body ached the world over, but somehow this made him relax his hunched shoulders a bit. Being held was always nice, but it seemed to be having more of an effect than usual—slowing his heart down and releasing tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. He probably needed this...

"Can you wrap things up in an hour? If you have one hour on your laptop to tell people to buzz off for a while is that a good enough compromise? Then no more laptop?" Kuroo suggested what he considered to be a more than reasonable trade. His fingertips brushed the back of his boyfriend's arm in soothing swirls through their hug.

"Maybe…" The former setter still seemed hesitant.

"Please?" The bed-headed fool begged with hopeful desperation.

Kenma sighed out deep in nasally congestion.

"Okay, fine…"

Kuroo let out his own appropriately exhausted and relieved sigh, squeezing him tighter with silent appreciation while crushing Kenma's ambition for any possible salvation of this workday.

—

The rapid patter of keys filled the silence between them as the two Nekoma grads sat beside one another on the couch among the disheveled layers of paperwork and likely confidential analysis, data points, and case files spread out all over the coffee table and floor. Kuroo's phone silently ticked down the minutes and seconds left in the grace period they'd agreed to, but it actually didn't seem to matter much because Kenma was very obviously fading fast.

Of course when he first got on he was hellbent on working as fast as his dexterous gamer's fingers would allow—shooting off email responses and instructions like he may legitimately never have access to the internet again. But within a solid 25 minutes he had slowed considerably, so much so that his bloodshot golden eyes were starting to blink and glaze over the message he'd written and re-read at least ten times already.

"Hey babe…" Kuroo paused typing and peered down at his companion beside him through dark-rimmed frames. 

Kenma's head jerked up, startled at the sudden intrusion to his "workflow" (if dozing off while stuck on the "o" key counted as work).

"Hm?" The small cat sniffed in response and reached up to rub a palm into his eye. His head was throbbing and buzzing on top of feeling the full force of this epically shitty cold return to its non-medicated power.

"I think you should maybe call it quits for now, huh?" The deep voice asked with such gentle concern that that nearly hurt too. 

Kuroo straightened up from his severely slouched couch posture and set his own laptop on a thick, disorganized-looking manila folder. He shifted sideways on the couch, loping a lanky arm along the back of it over his boyfriend's shoulders to stare sincerely at him. 

Kenma knew he was done. 

He didn't want to be, clearly, but now his brain and body and throat and chest and all the things he could feel but didn't want to just simply _hurt_. He couldn't even look at his screen without his stupid eyes hurting too. The semi blonde pressed his other palm up into his sockets to rub the ache from them and hopefully some of this pulsing sharp migraine away, but it did nothing and he hated himself a little bit for it.

"Kenma, it's okay," he heard the reassuring murmur near his ear say. It didn't feel okay. It felt fucking awful. It felt like failure.

"You've done enough, alright? How about you lay down and take a break, okay? No harm in a little break," Kuroo mused more casually as he brushed his fingers through the silky threads along his shoulder and tried to tuck them back up off his warm, slightly damp neck. His normal multi-colored sloppy bun was totally falling apart.

Kenma nodded wordlessly as he removed his palms from his neutrally disappointed face and barely even opened his red-rimmed eyes to see Kuroo slipping his laptop away from reach.

The tall cat exhaled through his nose, placing a firm but kind hand on his boyfriend's shoulder—pulling him silently into his side. Kenma's flushed, exhausted face found a comfortable spot on his chest just below his collarbone, but Kuroo continued to ease and encourage the rest of his scrawny little body into more comfortable positions. Poking his legs down and prodding his arms in a way that wouldn't cut off either of their circulation should his "break" turn into something more. Kenma wasn't fighting anymore, which meant he really, _really_ felt like complete and utter shit.

"Ohhh, Kenma…" Kuroo sighed lightly again as his boyfriend melted into a more horizontal position by the second. 

The gamer's pale, skinny legs finally stretched out across the couch then curled back in a bit, gym shorts stretching comfortably with them. His head drooped lower and lower until he finally made it to Kuroo's broad, soft sweatpanted thighs—face nuzzling into the clean cotton that he couldn't smell.

Kenma let out a barely audible congested exhale followed by the most pathetically heart-wrenching whimper of frustration mixed with clear simple discomfort.

Dark gray eyes narrowed. Guilt and empathy pinched tight inside them.

"I know babe—don't worry about it, okay?" The blocker muttered with calm undertones of reassurance and pity. 

He dipped his calloused fingers into the long black and blonde strands that he'd always secretly (and then not-so-secretly) loved and again worked them up off the former setter's damp neck. The pesky hair tie easily slipped out with the grooming, which was fine because it was useless now anyway.

Kenma buried his face deeper into his boyfriend's lap. 

Kuroo continued to stroke his hair gently with one hand and used the other to draw the fuzzy soft throw blanket from the back of the couch onto the now seemingly chilled, feverish body cuddled up against him. Kenma had argued in the hallway with this gamer tank on and at that point it looked like he was going to pass out from heat exhaustion, extreme irritation, or both. Now however his body temperature appeared to have swung in the opposite direction. A very subtle shiver tingled across his body, which was usually colder than Kuroo’s even on a normal day. There were goosebumps on his arms despite the layers of both dried and new sweat that clung to him even though he’d just taken a shower a little earlier.

Kenma sniffed, the sound muffled into Kuroo's legs where he issued another terribly adorable, yet soul-crushingly tragic throat noise. 

He was pissed at himself. He shouldn’t have been because _everyone_ gets sick _sometimes,_ but you try telling that to the guy who tripled his revenue streams last year from 300+ keyboard bashing sleepless nights and a fuck-ton of energy drinks. 

"Shhhhh," the tall cat tried to console his sweet companion who had far too many high-strung, unrealistic, and possibly unhealthy expectations of himself. 

Kuroo ran his tanned knuckles across Kenma’s flushed cheek and stroked his thumb along the warm temple like he'd done on so many occasions before. The motion was so subtle, so small, yet it always calmed him. Temporarily transporting his worries to another dimension so that he could enjoy the singular love expressed through Kuroo’s big, careful science-worn hands. 

They shared a wide vocabulary of soft touches like this with one another over the years. Affection ranging from the movements of digits across bone and muscle to nose nuzzles, head bumps, side bumps, hip bumps, the tickling flutter of messy hair, frisky pinches in sensitive places, and hopeless grins spread over goosebumped flesh until they transformed into kiss after kiss of sincere appreciation, pure joy, and quite frequently uncontainable desire.

The list was endless and frankly Kuroo liked it that way. He liked that no matter how many times or how many ways he touched Kenma, or Kenma touched him, or they _both_ touched each other there was always this overwhelming sense of relief and trust and comfort that melted over them. It was an instant boost of endorphins to the brain, like hopping into a hot shower after a long, hard day of training and feeling all your muscles harmoniously relax at once. 

However, their physical connection was confined mostly to “at home” touches, often to Kuroo's dismay. This was because Kenma had been super fucking clear from the beginning of their romantic level-up so many years ago that he wasn't comfortable sharing the physical side of their relationship out in public. Full stop. 

A younger, stupider (but in all fairness, adolescent) Kuroo had been incredibly disappointed at this confusing boundary line. 

At first it felt so much like straight up rejection, but as he got older he understood more of the intense anxiety that Kenma didn't even _want_ to feel about PDA but he _did_ so they just had to deal with it. He didn’t want other people to judge them or treat them differently just because they held hands or gave a quick goodbye kiss or anything else because it simply wasn’t worth the hassle to him. He didn’t want to be the center target of anyone’s attention (other than Kuroo’s), and he certainly didn't want to deal with the negative consequences of sticking out in a culture where everyone tried so desperately to conform to societal expectations.

And Kuroo got it. He didn’t like it, but he got it.

So together they had worked through compromises, caveats, and loopholes that the lanky blocker could use under specific circumstances if he really couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Friends, for instance, were different at least. To their immense relief most of the volleyboys from their team and others back in the day had accepted and supported them after they came out as a couple, which made certain types of touch more okay to get away with in front of them. (Which apparently they had been doing unconsciously anyway, but that was aside from the point.) And as it turned out a startling number of them were LGBTQ+ too. Go figure.

But ultimately, people outside their immediate circles of friends and family were all in major no-touch, do not pass go, do not engage in lovey-dovey bullshit zones lest you suffer the wrath of one very irritated and/or thoroughly embarrassed boyfriend.

Thank _god_ Kenma rarely left the house.

Kuroo didn't know what he would do if Kenma didn't _ever_ want to indulge in the physical parts of their relationship like he had initially thought back when they first started dating and the line between best friend and boyfriend was _real_ difficult to distinguish. Hell, being able to touch each other in all these new, exciting ways was one of the BEST things that came with dinging up to boyfriend status _period._ Not that it totally defined who they were as a couple, but it certainly shaped the nature of their interactions overall. Like the reassuring, all-encompassing hugs that lasted as long as they needed to for both of them to feel satisfiably loved, or the way Kenma would tear his uber-focused golden eyes away from the video game madness on his triple-screens and look up wanting, _needing,_ a good solid kiss and shoulder rub to get him through the rest of the night.

It felt nice to be needed like that. 

There was a deep, purring contentment that rested inside Kuroo when Kenma shared his vulnerabilities and leaned on him both figuratively and literally for comfort. He felt this now as his poor sick boyfriend cuddled close to him on their couch in the middle of the forensic mess of papers and crap he hadn’t really intended to get everywhere but totally did.

Kuroo exhaled lightly, staring down at his sweet, tragic lump of germs. He cradled his head with one hand and cupped the other between his ear and jawline. 

Kenma's stress was mostly erased for the moment, but the traces of fatigue were etched below his eyes and along his reddish nose. It clung to him like the baby fine hairs that had stubbornly refused to leave his face. God, he was such a jerk for giving all this to him...

By now, both of their house cats had silently joined the party. The black one settled in the crook of Kenma’s blanketed bent knees and the fluffy orange and white dude had taken up his usual post near Kuroo’s bedhead in case he decided it was bad enough for some emergency grooming.

Tetsurou loved this little family they had created together and, although annoying at times, he loved that Kenma had found work that he was so passionate about. He loved that he could be here with him when he needed it most. Consequences be damned, there was no reason he couldn't work on his reports at home if it meant that he could protect his boyfriend from his own slightly self-destructive work habits. He could hear his lab lead chewing him out next time he went in since he pretty much gave them no warning, but he'd smooth talk her. He was good at that. He had a very powerful grin and slippery quick tongue that could get him out of most hairy situations.

Except for this one. 

Those things couldn't make Kenma feel better, they could only manage damage control when it came to getting him to take caring for his body more seriously. Kuroo had this awful nagging feeling that this power struggle with his boyfriend wasn’t over and it would likely get worse before it got better. Kenma never just “gave up," which was something that Kuroo had always admired in him. He re-strategized. He pivoted. He made calculated decisions and followed through on them. He was a terribly brilliant setter long ago and over time he’d only evolved into a goddamn legendary gaming and businessing mastermind that never failed to get what he wanted if he set his mind to it. It was both impressive and kinda scary.

So while Kenma looked quite comfortable and innocent all snuggled up beside him breathing heavy in a deeper sleep than he probably wanted, Kuroo knew he had to be careful. He had to be vigilant. He had to be prepared to face the boss battle if his sweet little kitten decided to bust out the real dire tiger claws on him.

Kuroo sighed through his nose deciding not to worry about all that for the moment. Instead, he pivoted to how on earth he was going to manage typing his report sideways in order to not wake up the precious zonked out baby bossman in his lap. There were certainly much worse problems to have in life, so he was happy that in this moment this particular problem was his to solve. 

To be honest, he’d choose it a million times over if he ever had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenma is feisty and stubborn, but so is Kuroo no? Can't blame a kid for trying I suppose haha...
> 
> Think we've got one more chapter in this story folks. Not sure how I managed to draw this out, but here we are in the middle of a domestically ridiculous power struggle between two equally ridiculous (and cuddly) fools—what could go wrong, eh?
> 
> Anyway, let me know if you're enjoying this! Thanks for reading ❤️


	5. Eat, Sleep, Hustle

When Kenma woke up he was confused.

He foggily remembered laying down on the couch and Kuroo touching his face and playing with his hair, which was incredibly soothing and pretty much instantly put him into a crazy deep sleep. 

Now however, Kuroo was gone. 

As was all evidence of his sloppy paperwork that had been spread out everywhere in the living room along with his laptop, Kenma's laptop, and even the dirty mug of dark roast coffee that had been sitting on the wood-surfaced table without a coaster. This would normally trigger the hell out of Kenma (because why spend good money on something if they didn't bother to keep it nice), but he felt too awful and preoccupied to care or say something earlier.

...Had he imagined all of that? 

His irritation had felt so real. Especially with Kuroo's office-blocking, premeditated tinkle ball bullshit in the hallway. 

_That_ had happened, right? He wasn't like… hallucinating or anything? Or maybe it was just one really fucked up fever dream and he'd actually been laying here sleeping all day? Or all night? What time was it even?

Outside the colors of the garden had shifted to dreary cool autumn tones as a soft afternoon rain pattered down in moody streaks. The sun seemed close to setting by now based on the deeply shaded hues of grass, evergreens, and the damp little footpath that lead up to their front door. 

It was morning before, wasn't it? He must have slept for a really, really long time thanks to Kuroo's magic touch whether it was real or simply imagined. It was strange knowing he had someone in his life who held that much power—someone whose affection was so all-encompassing that it healed him even in his dreams.

Something nudged his knee. 

Kenma sniffed and smiled weakly, curling a gentle pale hand around the ear and under the chin of his beautiful black shorthair who was persistently snuggling up against his leg. A robust purr issued from his little companion who rubbed even harder against his knuckles as he found the best possible spot to be scratched. 

Sniffing again, Kenma scooped the large black cat up into his arms and pushed his achy body off the couch with his feet. He carried him cradled like a baby and the happy feline didn’t seem to mind this at all. Fingers continued to brush through the soft fur along its whiskers as he walked down the main hall and curiously peered into each room. There was no Kuroo here either even though he'd swear on his entire video game collection that he wasn’t making this up...

“Your papa was here, wasn’t he?” Kenma's scratchy voice asked the cat whose bright green eyes were wide and dilated. His only answer was the continued thundering purr vibrating against his hand. 

He shifted the cat up for a better grip as he padded back through the living room and crept slowly towards their formal dining space and the rest of the possible hiding places in the quiet, old rental house.

Yea, Kenma wasn't crazy. Not about this anyway.

There was his too tall boyfriend sitting on a floor cushion with one bent leg under the kotatsu table, the other spread out from the fold of the thick blanket as he hunched heavily over his laptop and all those disheveled papers. Beyond him, the sliding glass door to the yard was cracked halfway open, filling the room with the ambiance of rainfall, wet earth, and cool humid air.

The black cat thumped down from Kenma's arms sending Kuroo's back straight up as he jerked his head around towards the sound of the intrusion.

"Oi! You're finally awake," the fatigued roosterhead mused as he removed his glasses and smashed a huge careless palm against his face and on through his bedhead to quickly rouse the senses. It seemed like he had been hyper focused on whatever he'd been doing for a long time.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Kenma muttered hoarsely and motioned to leave.

"No, no, I'm done babe. Come 'mere, come 'mere," Kuroo slapped his computer shut and made eager grabby hands towards him.

Although his eyebrows furrowed slightly, the semi blonde complied by softly padding over and stopping to stand beside his boyfriend. He stared down at him with dull, glazed goldens.

Kuroo tugged on the hem of his companion's gym shorts. 

"It's awful hard to kiss you if you're all the way up there," he noted as a sly half-lidded grin began to spread across his ornery face.

Kenma didn't even blink.

"You shouldn't be kissing me right now."

Kuroo wrapped his contrasting tan arms around Kenma's pale skinny legs.

"I'll kiss you in the non-germy places. Come on, sit with meeee," the blocker whined razzing the backs of his knees lightly, hands creeping up his shorts. 

Kenma didn't even bother to sigh as he lowered himself to the floor and promptly leaned his head face first into Kuroo's shoulder. Like a magnet, Kuroo immediately kissed the dark roots in front of him and shifted his arms into a comfortable protective shield around his sick little boyfriend.

"You still feel like a zombie?" The tall cat asked seriously as he grazed his fingers along his back and glanced down with thoughtful concern.

Kenma just nodded silently into him, burying his face further into Kuroo's neck.

"You getting hungry now too? I made you noodles for lunch, but we're kinda hitting close to dinner time now. Want me to heat 'em up?"

The small cat shook his head.

"You don't want food?" Kuroo clarified, feeling mildly alarmed because he'd only eaten pancakes that morning and that was _it._ Sleep vs food was a hard decision to make, but he'd looked so cozy and worn out there on the couch earlier. He hated to wake him up just to force udon down his throat, but maybe he should have...

Kenma shrugged after pausing long enough for Kuroo to notice.

"So you _do_ want food?" The blocker rephrased sensing he wasn't wrong.

Another nod nuzzled into his shoulder.

"You just don't want me to get up now that you're comfortable?" Kuroo tried to bite back his smile as the realization dawned on him.

Kenma nodded a third silent confirmation into his boyfriend.

Kuroo hugged him tighter for a moment, careful not to yank his hair in their embrace since Kenma's long multi-colored tresses were running freely down over his bare shoulders and gamer tank. There was so little blonde left now. He always wondered what would happen when it actually grew out all the way. A re-dye possibly? Maybe he'd be dating a hot bombshell blonde again if he played his cards right.

The small cat pulled away from him, sniffing and staring first at the organized chaos that had rearranged itself on the table and then out the glass door that was streaked with moody precipitation. 

"I thought the house could use some humidity," Kuroo commented casually as he smoothed his hand down Kenma's arm and then rested it on his bare knee.

Kenma sniffed again and looked back at him.

_"Okay,_ I thought _you_ could use some humidity," the blocker admitted. "But you're probably cold now, huh? It's not exactly balmy out..."

Kuroo made to get up.

"I'll just get under," Kenma offered instead, trying to clear his throat so that he could speak properly. 

He grabbed the closest floor cushion to lay down on as he tucked his skinny legs beneath the thick kotatsu blanket. Incredible warmth flooded his lower half and his eyes drooped halfway shut with the pleasure of it. Thank god Kuroo had switched the table over early in the season. He knew Kenma would bask in the radiating glory of this singular piece of furniture for as long as the nights were cool even if the days were warmer in fall and spring.

The edge of the cushioned cover was drawn up as much as it could be, nearly to his shoulders, and Kenma hummed his appreciation. Kuroo bent all the way over and placed another solid kiss against his too warm cheekbone.

"Just for a little bit, okay? You're already sick so it'll only dehydrate you more if you toast for too long."

"Mmm," the nasally lump stated rather noncommittally into the flattish floor cushion. 

With that Kenma heard the tall cat get up and leave the room, presumably to prevent the possibility of dehydration from actually happening. It felt like seconds later when his shoulder was being shaken and murmurs were asking him to sit up even though he'd _just_ gotten ridiculously comfortable.

"Noodle time, noodle time little kitty," Kuroo singsonged under his breath as he literally hoisted his lazy companion up and halfway out of the warmth. And even though they had a perfectly good flatscreen in the corner, the bed-headed fool had brought his tablet in and tapped play for some YouTube test kitchen cooking show while they ate. 

Kenma didn't really pay attention to what the hosts were saying because they were speaking so fast that his laggy brain couldn't keep up. However, he appreciated the mindless entertainment and company as he slowly worked his way through the thick noodles, scallions, and hot homemade broth that Kuroo always kept frozen in large quantities so he could make meals like this on the fly. Their freezer was full of things like that from the talented chefs in Kenma's life—Kuroo himself, Kuroo's dad who had trained him well in culinary arts growing up, in addition to his own parents. They all loved to cook for whatever reason the gamer still couldn't fathom. Likewise, they all assumed Kenma needed hoards of pre-made heat-and-eat leftovers to make sure he didn't starve from his lack of motivation in the kitchen.

They weren't wrong of course. 

Ultimately, he was grateful for the food and the concern and accepted any and all donations to his total dump stat of a life skill, which was only worsened by the fact that Kuroo seemed to really enjoy being the one who ruled this particular domestic domain in their house. Kenma handled other things to balance it out though—he paid the bills, managed the finances, ordered deliveries for house stuff that was too large or heavy to walk back from the grocery store with. 

Although he may have seemed lazy given his sedentary career choices and hobbies, the gamer did his best to do other mundane chores too when no one was looking. He may have tried to _automate_ as many of them as possible (thank you vacuum robot for your time-saving convenience and feline entertainment), but he still tried to make sure everything wasn't always on his boyfriend's plate. As much as he could anyway.

Chopsticks clattered down against ceramic. 

"You're sure fast tonight," Kuroo managed through a huge unattractive mouthful of thickly hanging udon noodles. He shoveled and slurped the rest of them up quickly as if he were losing some sort of unspoken race between them then paused the autoplay which had gotten them to a video about how to pickle your own onions. 

Kenma blinked down at his empty bowl. Apparently he was done. 

Before his boyfriend. 

This never happened...

Seeming pleased with himself Kuroo bounced up, stacked their bowls, and left once again with an energy that was exhausting just watching him.

At least Kenma was full now. That felt good. His head didn't hurt as much as before either. 

How many more Kuroo-style noodle bowls did he need to eat before everything else felt better?

A few minutes later, a tiny cat-shaped bowl slid into view underneath Kenma's waterfall of hair as he sat slumped palms to cheeks over the low table. Three decently-sized colorful mochi ice cream balls were arranged inside it. 

Kenma removed one hand from his face, still leaning rather heavily on the other and flickered his gaze up to meet his boyfriend's.

"Only one way to really test drive those taste buds Kenma," the bed-headed fool explained brightly as he plunked back down beside him with his own perfectly portioned bowl of sugary goodness wrapped in pastel rice dough.

The semi blonde eye-rolled the tiniest bit and tried to hide the little hopeless smile that overtook him when Kuroo was being too sweet for his own good. 

"Thanks…" Kenma muttered genuinely. "But why are you being so nice right now?" 

He poked one of the treats to see if it was too cold to bite into.

"Kenma, what kind of question is that? I'm _always_ nice!" Kuroo proclaimed proudly, poking his big monkey foot into his boyfriend's thigh for emphasis and contradiction.

"Yea, but you usually don't break out the mochi unless you're feeling guilty about something," Kenma neutrally observed with a sniff as he nibbled into a light green ice cream ball. Green tea. Mmm. 

Kuroo made a face. A face that told Kenma he wasn't wrong.

His boyfriend sighed and popped an entire strawberry pink ball into his mouth. Chewing only after a few seconds of brain freeze that manifested in the supremely stupid-looking pinched face he was making. 

"Aight," a recovered Kuroo admitted with a puffed out squirrel cheek as he tilted his roosterhead from side to side like he was coming around to the idea of just telling the truth. 

"I didn't mean to stress you out this morning," the blocker chewed more carefully as he prodded a chilled mango-flavored ball in his bowl. 

"I wanted you to take it easy, but then I realized you didn't need me yelling at you in order to do that. So, yea, apology mochi from the depths of the freezer. Gimme a break and let me eat my feelings for once, okay?"

"It's your calories," Kenma shrugged knowing that Kuroo still counted them in an attempt to stay fit despite how much harder he had to work at it now than he used to. Kenma himself did not give two shits about his own calorie consumption, carbs, or any of the other stuff that made his boyfriend pause in the grocery store and take forever to decide between incredibly inane things like spinach wraps vs wheat wraps. 

"Truuuue. Yea, so, I promise to not be such a pushy jerkface if you promise to lay off the laptop and stuff, okay? Think it'll save us both an ass-ton of stress," Kuroo stated thoughtfully as he plucked the bright yellow mango mochi from his bowl.

“Okay,” Kenma agreed softly. He took another bite and the ice cream slid down the back of his sore throat leaving cool relief in its wake.

The blocker smiled like they’d made real progress during this short snack time chat and began to babble mindlessly about the next episode of a garbage reality show that was airing tonight.

Kenma felt more awake now, like he’d rested enough even though half of his body was still felt out of whack. His fingers itched to _do_ something. His mind felt mostly cleared and cooled by the frozen treats, but now wanted something more substantial to occupy itself. He needed to somehow try to salvage what was left of his day.

And although he knew he promised no more laptop, he hadn't said a word about staying out of his office.

—

As the preview scenes for the next episode aired, Kenma was reluctant to open his eyes. 

He wasn't asleep really. Just zoned out under the comfort spell that was the radiating heat of the kotatsu and Kuroo's dummy thick thighs which he was currently using as a pillow. A cool, careful hand mindlessly combed through the duotone layers of hair as the blocker nonchalantly talked shit about the players' decisions in the survival show on the big screen. He was leaning heavily on the low table, blocking Kenma's view (if he had been watching at all) as he babbled about how so-and-so should have done this or that. 

Needless to say, Kenma wasn't really listening to the show or to his boyfriend. Although he stayed conscious enough to follow the jist of it all. Someone made a huge freaking mistake, Kuroo called it, Kuroo was vindicated when that person got kicked out of the competition. 

"Whelp, serves him right for being such a naive, trusting idiot. Who makes such a risky play like that, I mean seriously? What a joke. What a—hey…" Kuroo interrupted his own pointless rant. "Are you even awake babe?" 

The TV switched from the next episode preview to commercials. The blocker paused his very important hair sorting to grab the remote and lower the volume to normal people standards. 

"Mmm," Kenma answered noncommittally as his boyfriend's hand dipped back into his pile of messy black and blonde. His eyes were still closed enjoying the soft touches of his companion's fingers which had pulled all of his hair up then transitioned to rolling a strong thumb into his exposed neck and shoulders. It felt like heaven even if the rest of him was largely still a hot mess.

"Are you even going to be able to sleep tonight? You've been snoozing more than the boys today," Kuroo mused, referring to their two cats who had kept a close watch over Kenma. 

Every time the bed-headed fool came to check on him, there was at least one feline sentinel on the back of the couch or curled up in the blankets beside him. It was super cute. He may have taken photos. He may have felt slightly guilty for doing so, but it was _rare_ to find Kenma zonked out with the kitty boys so he had to take opportunities like this when they presented themselves. Sick or no.

"I think you've probably roasted for long enough," Kuroo reasoned, tracing a knuckle down his temple and across his cheekbone. "Annnd it's practically my old man bedtime. You wanna come lay with me?"

"Do I have a choice?" Kenma murmured into the light gray jersey knit of Kuroo's thigh.

"Not really," the tall cat shrugged.

Kenma made an irritated froggy throat noise that was something between a _"fine"_ and a _"but I literally just slept all day."_

"You can play your Switch or whatever. You know I tune out the noise anyway."

"You don't 'tune it out,' you fall asleep like a ton of bricks every time your face hits the pillow."

"Touché, little kitty! But still, you'll turn into an extra crispy nugget if I leave you under this thing unattended so let's go. Up, up," Kuroo encouraged him as he peeled back the thick layer of table blanket that had been so wonderfully warm and comfortable.

Kenma grunted in a form of mild protest, but let his boyfriend latch onto his arm to help him stand. 

But once he did, Kuroo didn't let go. Instead, he wrapped his free arm around the gamer's back and drew him into another famous _"I'm sorry but you're too cute and I want you to feel better"_ Tetsurou hug. 

"I know you're restless babe," the blocker murmured through his hair. "But I'm proud of you for taking the time to chill. You'll be back to smashing villains and critting monsters in no time."

Kenma didn't say anything—though he did raspily exhale into Kuroo's collarbone and tee. As much as the gamer loved him and appreciated his positivity, he honestly didn't believe him. 

This was going to be one long night.

—

If someone had told Kenma Kozume how much he would grow to both love and hate sharing a bed with one Tetsurou Kuroo he may have opted for separate bedrooms even as conscenting, committed adults in a loving relationship.

When they were kids they had often shared Kenma's bed as a matter of convenience and laziness. Sure, they had a guest futon and it was always laid out on the floor for Kuroo, but somehow the little rooster-headed kid always managed to crash in an awkward position on the bed itself after they'd button-mashed their way through hours of Mario Kart and far too many sugary drinks. The co-sleeping didn't really bother Kenma until they'd both gotten taller and older in middle school when he would literally have to push his unconscious friend out of his bed and into his own sleepover set up on the floor. Sometimes he managed this, but more often than not he just caved because Kuroo was getting heavier, lankier, and far too troublesome to bother moving. (That and Kenma would be damned if he was going to sleep on the floor instead.)

He had also shared his bed with Kuroo plenty of times in their late teens and early twenties, which was (clearly) an entirely different experience because their relationship had evolved into a romantic one. 

That is to say, they were _incredibly_ horny and affection-addicted meaning that they did very little actual sleeping when it came to spending time between the sheets together. Kenma had truly enjoyed this period of bed-sharing because he too would be able to sleep like the dead after their over-stimulating and exhausting nighttime romps whether they were at home, in one of their dorms, or even the few love hotels Kuroo had insisted they try. (Because _"why not,"_ he claimed. Why not indeed.) 

Despite all of this, it was once they had finally gotten an apartment lease together after college that Kenma realized what he'd actually signed up for. The harsh reality turned out to be that adult Kuroo was a horrible, _horrible_ co-sleeper.

He'd grown to be significantly larger than Kenma, significantly stronger, and significantly more of a pain in the ass than he had ever been before. The bed-headed man would crash _hard_ once he hit the pillows each night, which he assumed was because Kuroo still had a fairly rigorous workout routine in addition to staying active at work and at home. Nowadays, he even did the basic yard work for the house during all seasons which only added to his exhaustion at the end of the day. 

And Kenma understood all of this, he really did, but that still didn't prevent him from being supremely irritated that Kuroo never _shut up._ Even in his _sleep_. Because in truth Tetsurou was a no-good, earth-shaking, egregiously terrible _snorer._ Either Kenma had never noticed this in all their years of Z's and cuddles or his brain was somehow so love drunk on him that it didn't care. 

So as the gamer laid in bed that rainy autumn night with a passed out boyfriend beside him snoring loud enough to wake the entirety of their mammalian ancestors from beyond the grave, an already miserably ill Kenma stared at his ceiling wanting to die. 

Figuratively speaking, but still.

He had in fact tried turning on his Switch and playing for a bit as Kuroo bustled around their ensuite bathroom brushing his teeth and taking an ungodly long piss. The blocker then shed his sweatpants and t-shirt, got into bed, and kissed the side of Kenma's head goodnight as he played his game. But it was only a matter of minutes before his big mouth started its thunderous rolling cacophony of snores from inside his pillow sandwich. 

The shittiest part about this was that Kenma had tried _everything_ over the years to make his sweet obnoxious boyfriend STFU in bed, but _nothing_ had _ever_ worked. He'd be lying if he said this wasn't a tiny part of why he stayed up so late to stream and work on his video content. By the time he got to bed every morning he was so beyond exhausted that he didn't even hear Kuroo's ridiculous snoring. So when he did end up going to sleep too early much like tonight, the sounds were distracting to say the least and high-key infuriating at most. Right now however it was probably somewhere in between the two. 

Kenma's bloodshot eyes were fatigued, but not sleepy. He had slept way too much today. The former setter had thought he could just play a low-stress game, do some mindless dailies, and ignore his boyfriend's terrible bad habit but his headache was now returning and it was just too hard to focus on his console with the distraction.

Kenma let out a frustrated congested groan and threw the covers back, leaving them carelessly open and unmade. 

Without much guilt at all, he padded out the dark bedroom by the light of his lock screen and on down the landing to the one peaceful refuge that he'd been vehemently and unofficially barred from all day long.

—

Kuroo woke in an epicly blind panic. 

He didn't know _why_ he'd done this, but his heart was racing madly in his ribcage and he couldn't remember if he'd been dreaming or not. If he had, then it must have been one hell of a nightmare because there were very few things he was consciously afraid of that ever made their way into his REM sleep. The top of this list included, but was not limited to: gigantic creepy crawly insects (spiders in particular), failing a class (which he had never done, but the horrors and pressures of college still haunted him), and literally the thought of anything bad _ever_ happening to Kenma. 

While "bad" was a rather broad category, but it had to be in order to cover all the bases that had freaked Kuroo out in the past concerning his boyfriend. 

Had he been bullied? Sadly, yes, especially when they were much younger but not when Tetsurou was around to do something about it. 

Had he been injured? Plenty—mentally, emotionally, physically. Who hasn't been? Though Kuroo had tried to protect him from a vast assortment of totally unwarranted bullshit over the years and he didn't intend on stopping now. 

Had he ever gone missing? Numerous times to Kuroo's aggravation and sometimes legit straight-up panic. It had happened during multiple matches, at school and practice, hell even on dates occasionally, but—

...Wait.

Where was Kenma _now?_

Kuroo's eyesight had gone to shit in his twenties, so it wasn't until he got on his thickly-rimmed glasses in the grainy darkness that he realized Kenma's side of the bed was completely empty.

_Motherfucking_ empty.

"Goddammit, he _promised…"_ Kuroo swore under his breath and begrudgingly dropped one long heavy leg off the bed to his immediate regret. 

It was chilly outside of the body-heated sheets. Cold enough for a certain little kitty to have very _little reason_ to get up and out of said bed at this late hour when he was supposed to be _not_ working, _not_ streaming, and _not_ making himself feel even worse. 

The blocker groaned dramatically as he lugged the rest of his sleep-lagged body up out of the covers. He snatched a zipper hoodie for warmth off the dresser and once again prowled out of their bedroom in his skimmies on a mission.

As predicted, a familiar bluish glow emanated from underneath the door halfway down the hall. Both of their house cats crouched nosily beside it trying to see under. Waiting for any sign of their dad inside to either A) let them in (they knew they weren't allowed in usually, but it didn't stop them from begging) or B) come out for a late night snack as he was apt to do. Sometimes they got treats. It was always worth waiting to find out.

On a regular streaming night Kuroo tried to avoid this door like a highly infectious disease ward. 

This was because more than half the time Kenma had his webcam on and Kuroo had gotten into trouble for "interrupting the flow of the game” on several occasions. He was a “distraction” for the fans and majorly “disrupted” the chat log for the rest of those sessions with curious speculation and weird conspiracy theories on who he was. Brother, roommate, dad, personal assistant, crazy uncle, deadbeat friend, live-in chef, lover, grungy hobo, a very accommodating food delivery guy, an innovation incubator landlord, a ghost, a ninja, a ghost ninja, you name it.

Quite frankly, Kenma was sick of hearing all the wildly inaccurate guesses. While some of them were maybe sort of true (lover/live-in chef/grungy hobo) he had told Kuroo that his appearances, no matter how brief, always fucked up his gameplay because he was too distracted trying to anxiously read the chat and focus at the same time. They marred the good Kodzuken name and made him the butt of jokes, crappy screencapped memes, and other nonsense that the pro gamer would sooner cut off all his hair than deal with on a regular basis because it was incredibly stupid, mildly to extremely offensive, and always made him end up losing.

Kenma hated losing.

...But Kuroo wasn’t thinking of all those things right now. 

All he could think about was how Kenma had _promised_ him to lay off the work stuff until he’d gotten better and then immediately went straight back to it in the dead of night. Did he think the blocker was stupid? Did he think he just wouldn’t notice? In general, there were fewer instances of him legitimately getting pissed at Kenma (it was normally the other way around), but this was coming close to that level because his boyfriend was jeopardizing _himself._ And if there’s one thing Tetsurou Kuroo could not tolerate under ANY circumstances it was Kenma’s health and well-being getting compromised. Self-inflicted or otherwise.

So… let the conspiracy of the crazy haired ninja chef hobo ghost man in the crimson undies commence.

_“Kenma!”_ Kuroo hissed immediately upon flinging open the office door. He knew what he'd find there, but it didn't prevent his jaw from hanging open in dumbstruck offense.

The dark room glowed with electronics and shadows and there in the middle of it all was the hunched silhouette of his boyfriend. Expensive wireless headphones atop his hair like the crown prince of tech that he was.

The middle screen was flashing with power attacks, magic, healing, dying, and all sorts of other things that Kuroo didn’t understand and never cared to. Kenma didn't even turn around. He was too engrossed in the pixel-based character carnage on screen and blasts coming in through his headset to take notice. Still coughing roughly into the striped throw blanket from the living room that was now wrapped around his shoulders. 

Kuroo could feel blood rising to his face. It clouded his judgment and snapped the last thin thread of sanity he had. 

Which is why he proceeded to storm over to the gaming chair, yank the headset clear off Kenma's head, and rage quit directly into the mic.

"ALRIGHT, alright! Show's _over_ folks! Time to pack it up. Thanks for tuning in and all, but Kodzuken isn't well and shouldn't be on right now. He needs to go to bed and so do YOU people for that matter. Friendly reminder: he's a human, not a machine, okay? Think about _that_ next time you wanna flame him for calling out because he has a life outside of all this and deserves a goddamn break once in a while. Kodzuken's manager signing him off for the next WEEK. _Minimally._ Kay, thanks, _BYE."_

With that, the hasty blocker bashed the keyboard somewhere in the vicinity of the escape key hoping that it would end the stream. 

Only… the game kept moving. 

Characters were still fighting and dying and respawning.

"Wow," Kenma managed before coughing hard into his blanketed elbow.

The chat on the third screen was still firing off, but none of the messages seemed to be commenting on the insane jerk in the underwear who just threw a hissy fit on camera.

"I'm going to order a lock for my door if you can't get your shit together Kuroo," the gamer grumbled with a sniff as he snatched his headset back and waved him off like the pest he was.

"Kenma what—"

"Also, could you _not_ curse when you think you're on my streams? There are kids watching so if I had been live you could have poisoned young minds and lost me a bunch of subscribers. It's a family show dingus…" Kenma continued clearing his throat and pausing the game.

"Wait, how did you…” Kuroo asked, hopelessly confused. 

"And I have a global audience so you can't just tell them all to go to bed, _dad,"_ the snarkiness continued with a sniff. Sunken gold eyes glared up at him with a mixture of silent annoyance and pity.

"Kenma, you mean you're not actually..?" The blocker’s brain was still trying to process what just happened.

"I'm watching someone else Kuroo. I told you I wasn't going to stream just like I told everyone else on my feeds earlier. Do you even check social media? Do you think I would tell you all one thing and then literally do the opposite?"

Kuroo felt his stomach bottom out.

Kenma huffed and quit the stream making the fast-paced PVP match disappear altogether. He busied his fingers typing a rapidfire message to someone in a different application.

"But I thought…" The tall cat tried meekly as he reconnected all the jumbled dots in his head.

"You were wrong," Kenma replied bluntly.

"Babe, I'm sorry, but what was I supposed to think?” Kuroo frowned deeply. “I asked you to stay out of here and then wake up to find you snuck out of bed—"

"I didn't _sneak—"_

"And are sitting in here like you always do, with _a stream_ on no less—"

"It wasn't _mine—"_

"When you should be resting so you can get back to all this sooner!"

_"Kuroo,_ you never. _Shut. Up._ " Kenma interjected, stretching his scratchy voice beyond its current volume capacity to emphasize his point.

"Excuse me, _what?"_ Kuroo's tired eyes furrowed to match his frown.

"I couldn't play my game OR rest OR sleep because your big loud mouth can't shut up even when we’re in bed," the small cat explained, pinching his temple like he was losing brain cells by the second just by having this conversation.

"What do you—"

"You were _snoring._ Again."

"OH," the blocker's dark eyes went wide with realization, then narrow with guilt. "Well… well, couldn't you just kick me or something?" Kuroo offered, like that was the most logical solution in the world.

"I _did,"_ Kenma fumed. _"Repeatedly."_

"Oh…” Kuroo scratched the back of his royally roostered head. “God, I'm so sorry Kenma. I—"

"I can't believe you'd go apeshit on my base like that…" The gamer sighed and slumped onto his desk, both hands on his head now, eyes closed.

"Well, I thought you were _working..."_ The wild-haired fool whined lamely, wondering why he'd set himself up to think like this at all. Was he the baddie here? It sure felt like it.

"Does that even matter? So what if I was? Kuroo, you don't get to control how I handle these sorts of things. And you certainly don't get to be a dick to my fans just because you don't agree with me," Kenma spoke hoarsely into his desk from beyond his veil of tussled multi-colored hair. 

"Yea, but I can't let you—"

_"Tetsurou,"_ Kenma turned to him now with more stubborn determination in his red-rimmed eyes. "I repeat—you _don't_ get to make my business decisions for me. I'm not some little kid, okay? I know what I'm doing..."

If Kuroo thought he felt bad earlier with his mochi-level apology now he felt a hundred times worse by comparison for not trusting Kenma's words at face value. 

"I… I know you got things Kenma," he started carefully, moving a hand closer to him. "I guess… I guess I sometimes think you're so absorbed in it all that you don't know when you need to pull back?"

The blocker closed his huge rough palm overtop of Kenma's smoother, cooler one on the desk. The gamer stared at it for a moment and sighed again.

"You know I didn't get to where I am without having some sort of self-control."

“I know,” Kuroo bit his lip and placed his other hand along Kenma’s shoulder. Pressing a thumb into one of his boyfriend's tension spots that always seemed to relieve pressure when he did come in to check on him most nights before going to bed.

Unexpectedly, Kenma sneezed twice into his blanket but it didn’t stop Kuroo from continuing to rub the muscles between his neck and shoulder blade. He was relaxing. Slowly. Begrudgingly.

“I think you owe me an apology,” the semi blonde muttered with a sniff as he closed his eyes and melted into the touch.

“I think I owe you a bit more than that,” Kuroo agreed easily, now pulling Kenma’s head into a hug as he stood beside his office chair and continued to work his fingers into the tense set of muscles strained from too much time sitting, too much time bent unnaturally forward. 

“You owe me more mochi…" Kenma mumbled into his boyfriend’s bare stomach between the open zipper of his sweater. He didn’t resist the awkward half standing, half sitting hug. In fact, he bumped his forehead into Kuroo’s abs and rested it there.

“More mochi? Done.”

“And a real massage," Kenma tacked on as he relaxed even further into his rolling fingers.

“You got it dude,” Kuroo confirmed, knowing he meant a full body one at a later time. Maybe over the weekend. Or maybe when he felt better.

“And apology sex.”

“Wait, what?” Kuroo’s went wide with surprise and feline mischief.

“Apology sex,” Kenma repeated looking up at him completely straight-faced as if it weren’t an odd request to be making at the moment.

Unfortunately, the blocker was incredibly weak for those serious kitten eyes.

“Ahhh, okay. Okay, okay, okay! I owe you apology sex too. When you’re better. Mochi, an actual massage, and apology sex. Possibly all in one go, but your choice. I’ll comply with all orders, your honor. I accept my punishment and am deeply sorry for being such a crazy, controlling jerk,” Kuroo conceded, razzing his shoulder with affection.

"A paranoid crazy, controlling jerk," his boyfriend corrected him.

"Isn't that a little far babe?" 

Kenma raised an eyebrow.

"Right. _Compliance._ Totally complying. I deeply apologize for being a _paranoid_ crazy, controlling jerk and wholeheartedly accept the consequences of my behavior no matter the cost,” the tall cat added as he squeezed his companion's shoulders towards him and bent down to kiss the top of his head. 

After a long quiet moment of holding his boyfriend to him, Kuroo continued. 

“You worry me sometimes though, you know that?”

“I know…” Kenma sniffed.

“But only because I love you so much.”

“I know.”

“So I’ll sleep on the couch, okay?”

The former setter looked up again to connect gold with gray.

“Really?”

“Absolutely. The Prince of Streams, Knight of the YouTubes, and Lord of BB Corp needs to rest and he can’t do that with a snoring buffoon in his bed.”

“Alright…” Kenma agreed slowly. “...But will you cuddle with me first?”

“That goes without saying,” Kuroo said softly as he swiped back his damp bangs and placed another kiss on his still warm forehead.

“Love you,” the small cat muttered, finally standing and clinging himself into a proper hug. 

“Love you too, you little startup junkie,” the tall cat replied with a hopeless grin.

With that, they went to bed once again but this time it didn’t feel rushed and it didn’t feel forced. Work could simply wait. The fans would still be there. And Kuroo proved once more that he would do anything for Kenma, even if it meant sleeping half the night on a couch that was too small for his lanky body while the fluffy butts of their fur children stepped awkwardly over him to find a comfortable spot to lay down.

Kenma himself slept quite well after all this, and continued to do so the following nights until he’d recovered enough to cash in on the promises Kuroo made to him in his moment of weakness. Just like his businesses, he supposed the struggle with his boyfriend was worth all the frustration because he still managed to negotiate a sweet net positive in the end.

Who ever said he had to work in order to hustle, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In loving memory of all the great fiction Kuroos who just became canonically impossible. Goodnight you sweet snoring princes. ❤ On the bright side, long live all the fresh and fabulous Kuroken content coming out!
> 
> Anyway, congratulations if you made it this far into a five chapter sicfic! (Seriously, who writes this much for one stupid cold...) Hopefully you enjoyed it and if so let me know. 😉 Stay safe and healthy out there peeps.
> 
> —
> 
> Also, I'm now a [Twitter](https://twitter.com/avogara) noob. How does this thing work? God, I'm so old, help...


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